


Between the Surface and the Seabed

by ConstellationStation



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, F/F, Mermay rambles, gratuitous Edelgard teasing, it's more likely than you think, mermaid!Dorothea, plot??? in MY mermaid au????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24195301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstellationStation/pseuds/ConstellationStation
Summary: Edelgard doesn’t have to worry about sirens drowning her when she can’t swim in the first place.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 86
Kudos: 200





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hap mermay

Sunlight pours into the open windows, which had iridescent sea shells in place of glass, illuminating the hallway with shafts of light. Edelgard's heels click loudly against the polished wooden floor in contrast to Petra's muffled footsteps. They had just come from a meeting as the Emperor of Adrestia and the Queen of Brigid, discussing how their relations will proceed now that the latter's country gained its independence.

"So I was looking for Dedue all over the monastery, and had founding… found him in the greenhouse," Petra says.

Now that the meeting was over, they were nothing more than friends.

"Then I was telling him, 'Garreg Mach has had much changing since I was last here, but this place has really _grown!_ '" Her voice got increasingly higher towards the end of the sentence and she dissolves into a fit of laughter.

It was a horrendous joke, but her mirth was infectious and Edelgard finds herself chuckling. "You're as bad as the professor."

"And by 'bad,' you mean 'good," Petra says confidently, "such is the humor of Fódlan."

"Debatable."

Most of their attendants had left to give them privacy, save for Hubert, Edelgard’s ever dutiful shadow and a close friend to the both of them. They exit the palace and step onto a terrace overlooking the shore. A cool, salty breeze tugs at the strands of Edelgard’s hair that weren’t done up in a bun. There seems to be something else in the wind. A voice?

“There is still much time before you have to leave, yes?” Petra asks, heading to a staircase at the side that led to the beach below. “You simply must go swimming with me! A trip to Brigid cannot have completeness without ocean swimming.”

“I’d hate to disappoint, but I won’t be swimming today.” Or ever, really. Nonetheless, she follows her to the beach, the sun beating down on them as they leave the shade of the palace.

“If it is because of your ocean fear, you need not worry, we can stay where the water is shallow, and I can rescue you, if you are drowning.” Petra glances at Hubert, “Will you be swimming?”

“I’m afraid not,” he says, “my attire is hardly appropriate for swimming.”

Petra tilts her head at his black cape and jacket, not seeing the issue. “If clothing is a problem, then just be leaving it on the sand.”

“No.”

“Swimming is a skill of survival!” Petra exclaims, “surely you see the need for it. Besides, the ocean has much beauty that cannot be seen from its surface.”

“There’ll be no need for swimming if we never get in the water,” Hubert says dryly.

Petra looks crestfallen, so Edelgard finds a compromise. “Perhaps we can see the other beauties of Brigid instead. I’d love to explore the forest with you.”

She beams at that, “then we shall see if you have improvement with tree climbing.” 

She grabs her arm and eagerly pulls her to the woods on the far side of the shore. Closer to the surf, Edelgard hears the voice on the wind again. She pauses, causing Petra to stumble to a stop.

“Edelgard?” she asks, then follows her gaze to the vast ocean. “Ah, do you hear something?”

Edelgard can barely make out the sound above the steady crash of waves, but it’s there. A faint, melodious thing. “What is it?”

“You know,” Petra starts, “there is a legend here in these islands, of sirens who has singing that has much beauty and power. And if you hear their singing, you will be under their spell, and they can be drowning you.”

“Sirens?” Hubert scoffs, but his posture is alert. If there’s magic in the distant melody, then he’d be able to sense it.

“Perhaps you should be letting me teach you swimming,” Petra teases, “so the sirens cannot drown you.”

“If the sirens have me under their spell, then learning to swim would scarcely make a difference,” Edelgard huffs, “come, let’s go to the forest before I burn under the sun.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Night had already fallen by the time they set sail for Adrestia. Edelgard makes her rounds about the ship, inspecting it by the light of flickering torches and the waxing moon. She meets Hubert by the prow of the ship.

“We’ve overstayed,” he says, looking at the distant waters. “We’ll have to make haste if we want to arrive as scheduled. 

Their forest excursion had been more fun than Edelgard was expecting. As it turned out, she did have slight improvement with tree climbing compared to when she’d tried to follow Petra up in the branches as a child. She didn’t break any bones this time, at least. Still, she doesn’t get higher than the lowest branches while Petra leaps easily from treetop to treetop. Hubert stays at the ground where he can catch her if she falls. They also got some hunting in, with Petra shooting as much game with as little arrows as she can. Neither Edelgard nor Hubert were much good with bows so they make do with the latter’s throwing knives. When they returned, the sun was setting.

“There’s no need to rush,” she tells him, “but if it comes to that, some wind magic in our sails ought to do the trick.”

He nods, keeping his eyes to the sea. 

The waters were calm, and Edelgard could hear the voice again, singing somewhere among the waves. She wondered if the siren had been singing this whole time. Could there be more of them, taking turns to fill the ocean with song?

“I’m going to turn in for the night,” she says, “you should too.”

“There’s something in these waters,” he murmurs, “I don’t trust it. I’ll keep watch.”

“If it’s about the sirens, I suggest you drop it.” Their song was beautiful, but not destructively enchanting. “If they were a serious threat, Petra would have taken better care to warn us.”

Hubert doesn’t move.

She places a hand on his arm. “At Brigid, we were surrounded by friends and allies. When we return, there will be snakes waiting for us in the shadows. Let’s take this moment of respite before we face them. Please rest.”

Finally he sighs, “as you wish, Lady Edelgard.”

She turns to head below decks, hiding a victorious grin as she hears Hubert pad after her. 

Unfortunately, her psyche doesn't allow her respite.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Edelgard dream she’s on a boat. Not the large vessel she’d taken to Brigid, but a small rowboat, bobbing alone amidst rough waves. She’s surrounded by darkness. Starless black sky above, turbulent black water below.

There are voices on the wind, still. Her blood runs cold when she recognizes them.

“El…”

The boat rocks as several things cling to it. Webbed hands reaching over the side, sharp claws digging into the wood.

“El!” 

She can’t bear to look at them, but their voices were inexorable. She stands on shaky legs, trying to peer down the side. The boat gets jostled again and she trips. She grabs onto the rim, barely keeping herself from going overboard, and finds herself face to face with the sirens of legend. Their skin was freckled with gleaming scales, their teeth were sharpened fangs, their ears were replaced with fins, and their necks were slitted with gills.

Most disturbingly of all, their faces were that of Edelgard’s siblings.

“Why did you leave us, El?” they cried out. “How come you have a boat while the rest of us drown?” 

How come she lives while the rest of them die?

Edelgard chokes back a sob, “I-I’m sorry…”

Suddenly, they let out a horrible wail. They surge out of the water and grab at her, trying to drag themselves onto the boat but only pulling her into the water instead. “Save us, El!”

She screams as the boat tips, twisting around, trying to get out of their grip and stay aboard.

“Save us!” The water froths as their tails whip furiously. Claws tear her clothes and skin, salty water stinging at her wounds as her blood streams into the ocean.

“SAVE US!”

The boat capsizes, and Edelgard falls face first on hardwood floor. She sits up groggily, blinking in the darkness.

She’s inside her cabin on the ship and had rolled off her bed in her nightmare. The cabin was oppressively dark and small, claustrophobia starting to bubble within her. Untangling herself from the blanket, she immediately heads to the deck.

The crew gives her hasty salutes and bows as she passes them, startled to see her. She must have been quite a sight, haggard and still in her nightgown. Not at all the unflappable emperor she makes herself out to be. She waves off their concern and finds herself an isolated corner on the deck to mull over her thoughts.

Although the sea was calm when they left, the weather had taken a turn for the worst. A dense fog blots out the stars and the ocean roils beneath them. It reminds her of her dream and she shivers, bile rising to her throat.

At least it wasn’t as dark. Though the moon was obscured, its light was scattered in the fog, surrounding them in a grey haze. She keeps her gaze on the foggy horizon, trying to swallow down her nausea. She can almost see shapes in it, indistinct as they are. swirling shadows, a large dark blob, a sharp orange glow, like a coal…

Adrenaline kicks in and Edelgard yells an alarm, “enemy mages, starboard side, prepare for battle!”

Her shouts are echoed by the crew who scramble frantically to get to their stations.

“Your Majesty, get down!”

She doesn’t get down so much as she trips as something slams into the ship, rocking it violently. Embers spray across her back, and she turns to see the railing she was leaning on earlier smoldering.

The captain yells above the chaos, “Man the turrets, return fire!”

Edelgard struggles to her feet, scanning the fog. There was at least one ship they were engaging with, but there could be more in hiding. She squints distrustfully at the shadows but she can’t tell if it was an enemy vessel without the glow of magic or even a lantern to give them away. 

A ballista bolt striking the mast from the other direction confirms her suspicions that they were surrounded. How infuriating.

“Hubert?” she calls out, but he didn’t seem to be on deck yet. He’d probably been sleeping like she told him to. Hopefully he doesn’t cite this as an example against taking breaks in the future.

“Take us closer to one of the ships,” she orders the captain, “Have fliers storm it and take down their artillery, then have a boarding crew to seize the ship. Be ready to provide cover fire.” He salutes and barks out her orders.

Meanwhile Edelgard needs to arm herself. She heads for her cabin when a cannonball shatters the gunwale before her to splinters, taking one of her men with it. The ship rocks violently under the assault and it's all she can manage to keep her balance.

They get close enough to one of the enemy ships that they see it through the fog, which by now she's sure is the product of dark magic.

A squad of falcon knights zoom overhead, quickly mobilized by the captain. Archers and spell casters rain hell down on the opposing crew, giving the fliers the chance to pick them off. 

Edelgard swells with pride at such an effective counterattack, but it won't be long before their foes adapt to their tactics, not to mention there was the rest of the fleet to worry about. They had to take this ship fast.

Ropes and planks are tossed between their vessels as the crews prepare to engage in a melee. Making a snap decision, Edelgard swipes the axe from her fallen comrade and joins the fray.

There were advantages and disadvantages to fighting without armor. However, fighting in her nightgown was probably one of her stupider, more reckless decisions. Since her slippers would only trip her up, she'd thrown it at her enemies as projectiles. She danced barefoot through the battlefield, cutting down her foes and shouting orders to her troops.

She was faster and more agile than she usually was in her heavy armor, but she was also dangerously exposed and she suffered for it. She'd taken more hits than what a regular human should be able to stand. The Crest of Flames keeps her going, consuming the life force of her enemies to give her strength and heal her wounds. Even so, she can't keep this up forever…

A brigand rushes at her, sword raised, and he's quickly struck down by dark, fiendish magic fired in rapid succession.

"That'll be the last time I let you talk me into neglecting my duties," Hubert mutters, falling in step with her. He'd thrown his cape over his pajamas, but that was more than Edelgard could say for herself.

"Save the 'I told you so's for after this." 

She lets Hubert take the lead while she catches her breath, darting out of his side only to finish off enemy soldiers. Before too long, they've cleared the deck.

Edelgard raises her axe to get everyone's attention, mustering as much authority as she can in her bloodied sleepwear. "Man this ship! We'll use their own vessels against them!"

Her crew cheers as they take on improvised battle stations. Looking back at their own ship and the first one that attacked them, it seemed there weren’t more enemy ships. Now that she'd seized control of one of them, they had the advantage in numbers.

Their moment of triumph was cut short as an explosion rocks their newly conquered boat.

"What now," she grumbles, but she had her suspicions on what it was.

"Abandon ship!" One of her men cries as they scramble back to their boat.

Hubert sneers, "it appears as though our pesky little friends had expected to be boarded. They've even prepared quite the contingency plan."

The boat lurches as another explosion bursts its hull.

"That's still one less ship for us to deal with at least," she says flatly as she runs back to their ship.

"We'll have to seize their other ship," he says, keeping in pace with her, "our own has sustained too much damage to make it to Adrestia in one piece."

She hisses a curse as screams ring out on the front lines. She turns to Hubert, "they need you, go!"

He nods grimly, sprinting ahead, leaping over the divide between the ships with a magic enhanced jump. 

Edelgard moves to follow when the ship she's on _explodes_. A wave of heat crashes into her, sending her careening off the boat. She makes a frantic grab for the ropes, but she was already falling. She clings to the rope for dear life, and it just smacks her against the hull of the ship, the impact jarring her into letting go.

She plunges into the unforgiving waters below.

The water was freezing, chilling her to the bone as she sinks in its depths. She thrashes, struggling to get to the surface, pain flares in her shoulder as she does so. That’s probably where she hit the ship.

_I’m going to die,_ she thinks numbly. 

The thought was surprisingly disquieting. Edelgard had always known she wasn’t going to live very long, but she’d figured if there was anything between her and her already reduced lifespan, it’d be a blade. Maybe dark magic, considering who her enemies are. If things went her way, perhaps she'd live long enough to pass down her crown and spend the remainder of her life in peace. Yet here she was, watching the bubbles escape her. She’d been right to fear the ocean.

_I’m going to die._

Hubert and the professor would be distraught, but they would see her mission through. She believed in them. Lysithea would probably be mad at her audacity for dying before she did, the only person who understood, gone. Ferdinand would have to take her place like he bragged about when they were younger. This was probably not how he’d dreamed it would happen, especially since they’ve finally settled their rivalry to work side by side. So many broken promises, so many vows she couldn’t keep.

_I’m going to die._

Lastly, she thinks of her siblings, and how she’ll finally get to join them after all these years. She recalls her dream earlier, of them pulling her into the depths. Her vision gets blurry and her eyes sting. She blames it on the salt water. She hasn't cried in years, no need to start now.

A figure swims overhead, silhouetted by the burning ship. Edelgard squints in the water as it approaches. It swam with the speed and grace of something that made its home in the water. A fish? As it drew closer, something billowed around its head like a cloud. Hair? Its eyes glinted green in the darkness, almost glowing. 

A siren.

It swam close enough to touch, but her vision was too blurry to make out the details. She imagines it looks like it did in her dreams, fangs, fins, and scales. She feels its webbed, clawed hands trying to pin her arms to her side.

_I’m going to die,_ she thinks, _but never let it be said that Edelgard von Hresvelg went down without a fight._

The siren’s face looms over her and she headbutts it with as much force as she can. It lets out a startled cry, releasing her. She kicks off it, trying to put distance between them, but she still doesn't know how to swim and ends up flailing gracelessly in the water. Her lungs burned. Which direction was up?

The siren grabs her again, claws digging into her skin. She twists and thrashes, adrenaline letting her ignore the pain in her shoulder and lungs. She lands a solid punch, though she’s not quite sure where she hit it. It disengages from her and swims a short distance away, circling her.

It was waiting for her to run out of oxygen! She had to get to the surface, but where? She spots the glow of the burning boat as it sinks. There!

Edelgard kicked her way desperately to the boat. Struggle as she might, she wasn’t even sure if she was getting closer. She really should’ve taken Petra’s offer for swimming lessons.

Her vision tinges black and her movements grow sluggish. The siren swims back to her. Its hands grab the sides of her face and she can’t even muster the strength to bat it away. Its face is inches from her own, and in the light of the burning ship, she can finally see it properly.

The siren had a woman’s face, framed with long silvery hair and freckled with dark red scales. She had luminous green eyes and painted red lips, parted slightly to reveal sharp teeth.

It’s the last thing Edelgard sees before she loses consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so basically my brain went "hhhrrrnngg mormeydss" so I took the idea and ran with it, but somewhere along the way I tripped on something that could be vaguely construed as a plot. I was planning to write the whole thing then just post it as a oneshot, but now I'm 10k+ words in with the end just barely in sight. So I broke it into pieces and I'll post it over the next couple days 'til I run out of backlog.


	2. Chapter 2

Edelgard wakes up to singing.

She's in a cove, somewhere. Judging from the brightness of the sun outside, it must be around midday. She's inside a small cave with a low ceiling. The opening of the cave is half submerged with seawater, which floods the majority of the cavern. 

Sitting atop an outcrop of rock is the siren. She's singing with her eyes closed, running a kind of comb-like shell through long brown hair. Her tail, a beautiful maroon with black tipped fins, swishes lazily in the water. She was wearing a dark red chest wrap and adorned in a variety of accessories. She hasn't yet noticed Edelgard was awake.

Edelgard herself is laying on a pallet made of worn leather. It's a little damp, so is she, but she supposes it can't be helped. 

Memories of the night's events rush back to her, yet she finds herself strangely calm. She was in some unknown location, completely helpless to the siren that had captured her for some reason. Even if she defeats her, she won't be going anywhere without help. Despite that, she's perfectly content to just lie down and let the siren's voice lull her back to sleep.

Realization arrives to her as an afterthought. She's under the siren's spell.

Edelgard forces herself to sit up, fighting through the placid haze in her mind. She looks around for something to use as a weapon, but the cave is barren save for the pallet she slept on. Not even a loose stone.

She eyes the siren's comb. It's the closest thing to a weapon in the vicinity. She'd rather not have to resort to magic, but she will if she has to.

"Oh, you're awake."

Edelgard blinks at the siren, shaking off the lingering effects of her song. She didn’t expect her to speak Fódlish.

"My name's Dorothea," the siren says, smiling pleasantly. The fangs don't make it very convincing. "And you?"

"Why should I trust you," Edelgard gives her a level stare.

Dorothea pouts, "after I went through all that trouble saving you? I suppose I should've expected this. You're quite the fighter, you know, even when drowning."

Edelgard remains silent.

“Yeesh, tough crowd,” she huffs, “you could kill a man just by looking at him.”

“According to legends,” Edelgard starts, “sirens are notorious for drowning sailors, and I’ve experienced firsthand how enchanting your singing can be.”

“Aww, you like my voice, thanks,” Dorothea coos. “I mean, sure those legends came from something, but it’s not like I make a habit out of it. Beside’s,” she adds, demeanor changing, an edge of something dangerous creeping into her tone. “Some sailors deserve it, wouldn’t you say? Like the ones that attacked you.”

Alarmed, Edelgard asks, “what did you do?”

“Me? All I did was save you,” she stops combing her hair. “I was just minding my own business when the sea suddenly became stormy. I know a thing or two about magic, and sensed there was something unnatural about it, so I went to investigate.”

“I saw two ships attacking another one, then…” Dorothea shudders, “I think you know what happened. Bodies were falling in the water, but it was too late for them. Then I saw you, and I thought to myself, ‘I have to do something.’ Not that you made it easy.”

“I see.” Edelgard considers what the siren said and decides to trust her for now. There wasn’t much for Dorothea to gain from saving her life only to end it someplace else. “I apologize for my rudeness. I’m grateful for your help, I owe you my life.”

Dorothea tilts her head at her, fins flicking. “You’re a noble aren’t you? From Adrestia, if the colors your ship was flying is anything to go by.”

Of course her manner of speech gives her away, Edelgard winces. Hopefully Dorothea doesn’t try to ransom her. What kind of demands would a siren make?

“Relax,” Dorothea laughs, “I’m just trying to get to know you. You never did tell me your name.”

“Edelgard."

“Edelgard, Edelgard,” Dorothea muses, “I’ll call you Edie.”

“Fine by me,” she says, even if the familiarity Dorothea was levelling on her was slightly disconcerting. “May I ask, do you know what became of the battle?”

She shakes her head, “I got out of there as soon as you were stable. I don’t know if there are other survivors, I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already done plenty, though I’m afraid I must ask more of you.” She didn’t really have much of a choice other than relying on her. “Where are we right now?”

“On a small island, east of Brigid,” she replies, “the closest Adrestian territory from here is Hevring, I think.”

"I'm needed at Enbarr."

"That'll be much farther," she frowns, "it'll take me a few days at least, though I'm not sure how you'd fare if I bring you along."

“Can you take me to Brigid instead?” From there, she could get Petra’s help to get back home.

Dorothea nods, “yeah, that’ll be easier.”

“Thank you,” then she adds, "if there's any way at all for me to repay your kindness, don't hesitate to ask."

She smiles coyly at her, "I'm sure I'll think of something. I'll take you to the nearest fishing village, you'll find help there."

The thought of showing up to a random village in her current state was mortifying. She realizes belatedly that she's still in her nightgown, tattered and bloodied beyond repair and clinging uncomfortably to her skin. At least her injuries have been healed. She crosses her arms over her chest to preserve what little modesty she still had. It was the wrong move as the action only brings Dorothea's attention to it, though her gaze flicks quickly back to her face.

Edelgard coughs, "actually, I have somewhere else in mind. Could you take me to the main island? There's a beach at the northwestern tip, next to a forest. That should be fairly secluded."

"Secluded? Yeah, right," Dorothea exclaims, "that's the royal family's backyard!"

She flashes her a wry smile, "I know what I'm doing, don't worry about me."

"If you say so," Dorothea slides down her perch and into the water. She dives under, reemerging at the mouth of the cave. "Come on."

"Of course," Edelgard stands hesitantly. The water inside the cave was shallow enough for her to wade in, the slope getting increasingly steeper near the entrance.

Dorothea splashes the water next to her, inviting her to jump in. Strangely enough, her hair was perfectly dry despite having been submerged.

"A word of warning," she says, lowering herself in the water until it's up to her neck, "I can't swim." She's also afraid of the ocean and without a life threatening situation to distract her, her dread grows unchecked. She keeps that part to herself.

"No matter, I'll be doing the swimming for the both of us." Dorothea purses her lips, "but I do have my own warnings to give you."

"Warnings?" She doesn't like the sound of that.

"Yeah, you were unconscious for our trip here so I guess you missed it," she tells her, "you see, I'm gonna have to use my… mermaid magic on you."

"You mean singing?"

"Not quite. What other legends have you heard about my people?"

Edelgard ponders that. She didn't pay particular attention to most things without immediate practical use. "Not much."

"Well, you know how we can save sailors from drowning?"

"Like what you did for me?"

"Yes," she rolls her eyes, "except you were too busy being unconscious to see how I did it."

"Then kindly explain," she says, nerves wearing her patience thin.

"I'm going to kiss you," Dorothea winks at her.

She stares at her, uncomprehending, for a moment. Then heat blooms on her cheeks. "What?"

"Oh, Edie, you're adorable," she giggles, "but I'm serious, that's how it works. And it has to be underwater, the spell is broken above the surface."

"So before, at the ambush, you kissed me?" She asks, incredulous.

"Sure did," she says with a cheeky grin, "hope you don't mind, since I was kind of saving your life at the time."

The hopeless romantic in Edelgard- that hadn't been stamped down despite the hardships of war, was indignant that she lost her first kiss to a stranger. And worse, she wasn't even conscious to experience it! Still, the pragmatic part of her could see that there was no choice. 

And that they'll be kissing again. For completely practical reasons.

"And what exactly does kissing me do?"

"It'll let you breath underwater, for starters," she explains, "and see better. And hear better. Basically all the underwater siren privileges, except for swimming. You might want to work on that yourself."

Edelgard takes a deep breath, "very well," then she ducks her head underwater. Her eyes squeeze shut instinctively against the stinging saltwater.

Dorothea's speaking to her, but her voice is garbled and distorted. She can't make out the words. But she does feel her hand as it cups her cheek.

She's speaking again, probably asking her if she's ready. Or maybe saying some flirtatious quip. Either way, Edelgard nods in response.

And then soft lips press against her own.

It's over as soon as it started. Dorothea at least kept a degree of professionalism at the interaction, not taking any longer than necessary. Still, it's enough to stun Edelgard, who's eyes flutter open, speechless.

"You really should see your face, Edie," she teases, her voice clear and melodic.

She opens her mouth to retort and the breath she was holding escapes her. She claps a hand over her mouth to stop the bubbles. 

Dorothea gently pries it away, "it's fine, you're totally fine. Try talking."

Reluctantly, Edelgard takes a deep breath. Bubbles pour out of her nose and water floods in her mouth. Her instincts cry at her to breach the surface lest she drown, but she steels herself. Instead she keeps breathing, deeply and deliberately, until the bubbles are gone entirely.

Finally, she says, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Dorothea laughs.

"But why kissing?" She asks, "is there no other way to do it?"

She shrugs in reply, "not that I know of. Besides," she leans in, voice dropping to a sultry purr, "my mouth can do all sorts of magic."

Edelgard attempts to stammer out a response before she catches herself and shoves Dorothea away instead. The siren is cackling. She turns away to hide her expression, unable to stop her lips from curling into a smile.

"I'm sorry," Dorothea pleads, not sounding apologetic at all. She takes her by the hands and leads her to the depths, "here, take some time to get used to the whole underwater thing, then we'll leave in a bit."

Edelgard gasps as she takes in her surroundings for the first time. A field of corals sprawls beneath them, fishes of every color darting out and about in large schools. Dorothea hums as she shows her around. Edelgard lets herself be dragged along, floating weightlessly. 

Sunlight dapples down on them through the rippling surface in mesmerizing patterns. Dorothea's scales glitter under the light, but what catches Edelgard's attention is the way her hair shines silver. "What happened to your hair?"

"Oh, this?" She runs her webbed fingers through her hair, a few small bubbles rising from it. "It's waterproof. The trapped air makes it look like that."

"Will your wonders ever cease," she shakes her head with a chuckle.

"I can think of a few wonders I'd like to show you."

Edelgard nearly thought she was referring to another ability or perhaps a scenic view in the ocean, but the wink she sends her tells her where that conversation was going should she pursue it.

She doesn't, for now. "I think I'm ready to go to Brigid."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Edelgard wouldn’t call their journey uncomfortable, but she wasn’t quite at ease either. Dorothea can’t very well drag her by the hand all the way to Brigid, so their arrangement involved them pressed chest to chest, with their arms wrapped around each other. It was strangely intimate and incredibly awkward. The siren had no trouble propelling them both with just her tail, and she knew to ride the ocean’s currents to cover vast distances with minimal effort.

Their journey also cemented Edelgard’s beliefs that the ocean was terrifying. They were only swimming through a tiny fraction of it, yet it was too vast, too deep, and too  _ empty _ . They passed through a stretch of it where there was nothing as far as the eye could see. Even with her newfound underwater vision, there was just a dark blue abyss all around and below them. 

Suppressing a shudder, she buries her face in Dorothea’s neck to block out the surrounding void. 

Dorothea trembles for a different reason, “can you not do that, it tickles.”

Edelgard blinks, noticing her gills pulsing at her neck. “Oh, I am so sorry.” 

"You're fine."

She keeps her gaze on the surface instead, farther now since Dorothea had to take them deeper to find the right currents, but it's the only thing keeping her anchored in the endless ocean. That and the arms holding her in a tight embrace.

She doesn't keep track of the time- she has no way how, and she snaps out of the trance she fell in when Dorothea suddenly spins them around so Edelgard has her back to the surface.

"Edie, look!"

Edelgard wanted to complain at the sudden movement, but her breath catches in her throat at what she sees. Instead of the yawning abyss that surrounded them earlier, they were now in shallower waters and the ocean teemed with life once more.

A sea turtle swims past them, Edelgard reaches out a hand, almost to touch it.

"Were almost there," Dorothea says, barely sparing a glance at the reef. She probably sees sights like these daily, though Edelgard can't imagine ever growing jaded to it.

They pause a little ways from the shore. The water still deep enough for the siren's tail to swish freely beneath them.

"Alright, the next part's going to be uncomfortable," Dorothea warns, "actually, no, it's going to be painful."

"Painful? What could possibly happen?"

"My magic protects when you're underwater," she explains, "but once you're above the surface, it can't do that anymore."

Edelgard still doesn't understand the problem. "Yes, but I won't be needing it anymore at the surface won't I? That's where I live."

"True, except your lungs are full of water right now."

Edelgard clutches at her chest, panic flaring. "What'll happen?"

Dorothea gives her a reassuring smile, "You'll just cough all the water out. I've seen this dozens of times before, no one's died of it yet. Everyone's found it extremely unpleasant, though."

A small reassurance, but it's something.

Bracing herself for the worst, Edelgard gives her a determined nod, "I'm ready."

Dorothea grins at her, eyes flashing. "You aren't afraid of anything, are you?"

On the contrary, if it weren't for her, Edelgard would quite literally be drowning in her fears. But that's something she's long since learned how to mask, so she gives Dorothea a winning smile.

Her air of confidence is immediately broken once out of the water. Her lungs seize, a burning sensation running through them, then she's hacking, coughing, and vomiting water. She's distantly aware of Dorothea rubbing her back and murmuring comfort.

Eventually, she gets all the water out, but she feels spent and exhausted. She collapses onto Dorothea with a weak groan.

"You alright?"

"I'll manage," she wheezes. 

Dorothea gently steers them closer to shore, humming. The melody washes over Edelgard like a soothing balm. 

Soon, the water is shallow enough for her to stand, and she does so with minimal shaking. Dorothea follows her as she trudges through the surf until she's resting on her elbows where the waves lap at the sand. 

"Don't suppose we'll be seeing each other again?" Dorothea asks.

Edelgard crouches to her level. "I doubt it, unfortunately. How can I repay you?"

She hums, tail swishing over the waves. "How about you promise not to die soon, and I'll call it even."

Edelgard considers this, recalling the war of shadows she's engaging in, and the number of nobles she's irked who could have- and already have- sent assassins after her. "I promise."

"Oh, and tell Petra I said hi!"

"Petra?" She asks, surprised, but she doesn't get the chance to ask for clarification as Dorothea had already turned tail, nothing more than a splash and a dark shape, quickly lost in the depths.

With not much else to do, she makes her way to the wooden staircase that led up to the palace, where she was just a day prior.

There are a couple of guards on the terrace. They point at her, shouting in Brigidese. At her current state, she looks nothing like a threat. Even if they don't recognize her as yesterday's guest, they don't point their weapons at her. However, they still stop her from climbing on the terrace.

One of them asks her something she doesn't quite catch. Petra had recently started teaching her the language, but she's barely grasped the basics. The guards' terse words fall unregistered to her ears.

She racks her limited vocabulary and manages to say, "help?"

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They take her in, perhaps out of pity, but a maid recognizes her, speaking in rapid fire Brigidese. Edelgard has no hope of understanding that, but she hears "Adrestria" among them.

She's given a bath, a change of clothes- in the colorful, traditional style- and after she's refreshed, the maid leads her to a sitting room where a meal and a host await her. Not Petra, but her grandfather, whom she'd been introduced to on her first visit to the islands during the war. He greets her warmly and sits on the opposite side of the table.

While grateful for a familiar face, the former king of Brigid's Fódlish was about as good as Edelgard's Brigidese.

Which is to say, lamentable.

Even if she spoke slower, like she used to do for Petra when they were younger, he couldn't grasp her meaning. Not that she catches on to his words when he tries to adjust for her. They end up having a pitiful exchange where each spoke in the butchered version of the other's tongue.

"No safe your boat?" He asks.

"Attack," she responds, not having the words to explain in greater detail.

He mutters to himself, trying to translate his thoughts, before speaking. "Friends?"

"Not…" she struggles, trying to remember the Brigidese for "I don't know." Instead she says something that came out like, "not think."

They stare apologetically at each other.

Footsteps ring outside and the door slams open, revealing Petra.

"Edelgard!" She exclaims, running over to grasp her shoulders, "You were supposed to be leaving yesterday! I have much concern when I heard you washed up on the beach. And what of the others?"

Edelgard tells her everything, from the ambush, to the siren who saved her, and to the siren's final message.

"Ah," Petra laughs, "you have met Dorothea. Yes, I have acquaintance with her."

"Yet you warned me about sirens," Edelgard huffs. Slightly annoyed even if she has no real reason to be.

"Only in joking," she says, "I wanted to get you to swim."

"And I did, in a way," she grumbles. Then a thought comes to her. "Actually, does the offer still stand?"

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Petra arranges for her passage to Enbarr, which involves her tagging along on a well protected merchant vessel. Meanwhile Edelgard sends a letter ahead, assuring her safety and informing them of the details of her return. The message was coded, in case it's intercepted by the very people who sought her death. 

The merchants leave the next day, for now, Edelgard has the chance to rest and relax. She doesn’t quite do that. Instead, she stands in waist deep seawater while Petra coaxes her to go deeper.

“The first step in swimming,” Petra tells her, “is to have comfort in the water. You cannot be swimming if you are panicking.”

“Easier said than done,” she mutters. It was high tide, according to Petra, and the water gets significantly deeper in just a few steps. The waves push and pull at her, and the shifting sands made it harder to keep her balance.

Edelgard lets out a startled squeak, clinging to Petra. “Something touched my foot!”

“Oh?” Petra ducks underwater to investigate. She doesn’t at all seem bothered by the salt. She resurfaces, holding something up. “It is only a starfish, would you like to touch it?”

The five pointed creature looks harmless enough, and Edelgard takes it from her to prove she wasn’t afraid. She immediately drops it as soon as it’s in her hands, irrationally unsettled by the little starfish.

“It is not the season of jellyfish so there is no danger in the waters now,” Petra notes.

“Jellyfish?” she asks nervously. She’s read tales of their paralysing sting, sure to cause incredible pain, if not death. The thought makes her hyper aware of every little thing in the water around her. Each little pebble, broken off bit of coral, frond of seaweed…

Something closes around her ankle in a firm grip.

Edelgard screams, kicking at it frantically and practically climbing up Petra in an effort to get away from the water. Familiar, melodic laughter chases away her blind panic.

“It is not nice to scare Edelgard like that,” Petra scolds Dorothea as she adjusts her hold on her to a proper carry. “She has ocean fear.”

The siren laughs again, not grasping the severity of her actions until she notices Edelgard still clinging to Petra, wide eyed and shivering. “You’re serious? You’re  _ afraid _ of the ocean?”

Edelgard’s face, already red from sunburn, grows even redder with embarrassment. She wants to get back on her feet to reclaim her dignity but she also doesn’t want to get back in the water.

“But we just crossed the ocean, at least a part of it,” Dorothea continues, incredulous.

“Yes, and I almost drowned,” she scoffs, slowly settling back in the water. “Besides, there were more pressing concerns at the time.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you then,” she amends.

“How about you be joining us?” Petra offers, “I am teaching Edelgard the skill of swimming and helping her overcome her ocean fear.”

Dorothea grins at them, all flashing fangs and glinting scales. “Sounds fun, count me in.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They spent most of the day on the beach teaching Edelgard how to float and paddle. At some point they had a water fight, which involved splashing each other with water until the others yielded. Really, it was only between Petra and Dorothea. The Queen of Brigid was unfazed by saltwater to the face, about as at home in the water as a siren. They try to involve Edelgard more, but there was only so many times she could stand water up her nose.

Petra had also tried to teach her a breathing exercise where she'd take a breath above the surface and let it out underwater through her nose. The experience brought back memories of the aftereffects of Dorothea's "mermaid magic" and she stubbornly refused to bring her head back underwater. Petra didn't push her further.

Before they leave the beach, Dorothea tugs at her wrist. "When do you think you'll return to Brigid?" 

"I'm not sure," Edelgard tells her, "I'll be rather busy once I return to Enbarr."

She tilts her head in consideration, "that's near the coast, right? Perhaps I could visit you there."

"The coast of Enbarr is nothing like Brigid's. I don't think a busy harbor is a good place to meet." Dorothea seems to have a positive relationship with humans, if Petra was anything to go by, but Edelgard didn't want to bring her anywhere they didn't have the place to themselves.

Dorothea pouts at her. "If you don't want to see me, just say so."

"It's not that, I swear," she amends hastily. 

"I'm teasing," she winks at her, "but I'm sure there are parts of the coast that aren't bustling with people. Maybe we can find a quiet beach somewhere."

"That would be nice." Edelgard can scout the area quickly on wyvern back while Dorothea searches from the sea, though that presents a different problem. "How do I find you?"

"I'll sing, so listen up!"

"You'll be singing the whole time?" As she says it, she realizes Dorothea might already do so regularly. Even if the siren she'd heard the first time was a different one, singing is just a pastime for them. "I can't guarantee I'll be able to look for you as soon as I get back. As I said, I'll be quite busy."

"That's fine, just don't keep me waiting for  _ too _ long," she winks at her again. "So, promise you'll meet with me?"

She doesn't hesitate, "I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this is as fun to read as it was to write ;3


	3. Chapter 3

  
  


Edelgard returns to quite the welcoming party. 

She's barely stepped off the ship when Bernadetta tackles her in a hug, wailing all the while. "We thought you died!" She sobs out more things, but the words tumble out of her mouth incomprehensibly.

Ferdinand gives her a hearty pat on the back. "You really put us through a whirlwind of emotion. Hubert returned the other night with the news that you were lost at sea. Then, before we could even properly mourn you, a missive from none other than yourself arrives the next morning!"

"You're never out of dramatic reveals, are you?" Byleth chuckles, shaking their head. 

"And it's a good thing you came back," Lysithea says, tone scolding but her smile gave away her relief, "that would've been a very foolish way to die."

"Yeah," Caspar grins, "for the record, I never believed for a moment you were a goner."

"He lies," Linhardt tells her.

The crowd parts and Hubert steps before her, lips trembling and visible eye watery. He composes himself in an instant, bowing nearly to his waist. "I'm overjoyed at your return, Your Majesty. I won't fail you again."

Edelgard wiggles out of Bernadetta's embrace to give him a hug. He stiffens. 

"You never have," she tells him, "don't beat yourself over that."

He finally returns her embrace.

Byleth claps their hands, "alright, I believe we have a funeral-turned-party to attend to."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Edelgard delicately removes her headpiece, combing out her hair before tying it again in a side ponytail. Shedding her usual regalia, she dons her riding clothes, checking herself in the mirror.

It's been two days since she returned from Brigid. Despite Hubert's initial efforts to keep her disappearance under wraps, rumors were quick to spread and just the potential of a power vacuum was enough to put the Empire in a tizzy. Edelgard had spent the day prior smoothing over concerns and the rest of the time coordinating with the other countries over their reforms. She now has the afternoon off and she intends to use it to fulfill her promise to Dorothea.

On a whim, she rifles through her jewelry box for something to gift her. The siren always wore accessories from their two meetings, bracelets, and earrings- fin rings?- made of carved corals or cut shells. 

Fortunately, Dorothea's colors fit nicely with current Empire fashion, and she finds a variety of jewelry that could match her. She settles for a bangle of black sand steel, inlaid with garnets and emeralds. She makes a note to ask Linhardt about enchantments to prevent rusting. For now, she sets the bangle aside.

She heads for the aerie, where the wyverns were kept, and is only mildly surprised when Hubert falls in step behind her.

"I'll be looking for a good place to meet with Dorothea, I should be fine on my own."

"With all due respect, Lady Edelgard, I disagree. I won't allow another ambush to be successful on you."

She rolls her eyes, "a publicly known diplomatic mission is a different matter entirely from a private meeting with a friend." Did she really consider the siren a friend so soon? Edelgard finds that she does. How far she’s come from the wary teen who entered Garreg Mach all those years ago.

"A private meeting in which the specific meeting place is yet unknown, said friend is broadcasting her presence for all to hear, and you are required to scout remote territory alone and far from sources of aid," he notes, "I think I'd best come along. Just this once."

"Very well," she concedes, "but we'll be flying."

"If you can bring yourself to swim, Your Majesty, I can stand a roundtrip in the sky."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


When they mount Nike, Edelgard's wyvern, Hubert maintains a polite distance on the saddle, keeping his hands firmly at the sides.

"Are you ready?" she asks him.

"Whenever you are," he replies smoothly. Edelgard can sense how tense he is despite that.

They take off, and at once his veil of composure is lost to the wind. He wraps his arms around her waist so tight it almost hurts and he presses his face against her hair, hissing curses.

She puts her hand on his in a gesture of comfort as they climb higher in the sky, but he doesn't calm down until Nike levels out, stretching his wings against the wind currents in a steady glide.

Hubert's grip on her loosens and he spares a glance at the land below. The sprawling city of Enbarr fades behind them, giving way to farmlands, then later, wilderness.

"We'll make a Dark Flier out of you yet," Edelgard tells him, equal parts joking and encouraging.

"Not likely," he grumbles.

They reach where the land meets the sea, a sheer cliff that drops hundreds of feet into the churning waves. Not a very good meeting place. 

She steers Nike along, following the coast, flying over rocky spires and gravel beaches. A far cry from Brigid's white sand shores. She tries to listen for Dorothea's familiar siren song, but hears nothing over the sound of the wind and waves.

Nike barks, tilting his head towards something.

"You hear something?" Edelgard slackens her hold on the reins, "after it!"

They suddenly bank to the side, veering towards the cliffs, cutting over land to reach the other side of the coast. Hubert chokes back a gag as he clings to her for dear life.

Edelgard grabs the reins and controls their movements to a gentler flight. "Hubert, I love you, but I can't promise to react rationally if you vomit on me."

"Noted, Your Majesty."

They draw closer to the sea once more, and they're close enough that even Edelgard can hear the song. 

Nike lands on the beach, startling a flock of seagulls which he snaps at as they fly away. Edelgard drops to the coarse sand below and helps Hubert down. 

Seagulls continue to mill about, more enchanted by Dorothea's singing than they are afraid of the wyvern. The siren herself is lounging where the waves lapped at the sand. She raises her hands to them in greeting, not breaking her song.

Edelgard makes her way towards her, stepping gingerly around tiny crabs to crouch to her level. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

She finally stops singing, "just a day or so. I had quite the audience to keep me company in the meantime."

"I see that," she chuckles, watching the gulls and crabs disperse. "By the way, this is Hubert."

He gives Dorothea a respectful bow, "you saved Lady Edelgard's life. I'm indebted to you."

"Aren't you two cut from the same cloth," she muses, looking him over. "It's nice to meet you, Hubert, but I was under the impression it was just going to be me and Edie."

"Oh don't mind me," he says in that silky voice of his that blurred the line between polite and sinister, "you won't even notice I'm here." With that, he slinks away. Presumably to secure the perimeter or some such.

"Initially, I was going to come alone," Edelgard explains, "but he insisted on accompanying me for security purposes. He won't be staying for next time, I can assure you."

"'Next time,' you say," she giggles, "I like the sound of that. Though, it would be a shame if you never continued your swimming lessons."

"Ugh, don't remind me. Though I suppose that's to be expected, considering the nature of our meeting."

"You don't plan on going in the water today, I take it?"

"Not today," she confirms, shifting away as Dorothea splashes water at her. "I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer and it's nice to be able to set the time and place beforehand."

"Well, I can assure you this is the nicest beach closest to Enbarr. So that's the place settled."

"How does next Saturday sound for you?"

Dorothea lets out an exaggerated groan, "you make it sound like a business appointment. Somehow, that's just like you, Edie."

Edelgard can't help but take offense at this. Was she boring? "I can't help it if this is so out of the way for the both of us. I can't just fly all the way out here daily, and I'm not sure how to keep in touch with you between meetings like this."

"That is a problem," she winces. "Yeah, I suppose Saturday sounds great."

"I look forward to it," she smiles. She just needs to get through a few more days of political maneuvering, law making, and a little cloak and dagger espionage on the side before they can spend time together in earnest. Just great. "If I'm being honest, I don't particularly look forward to saying goodbye so soon."

"Then don't," she says, like it's the most simple thing in the world. 

"You make a compelling argument," Edelgard settles herself more comfortably on the sand. At the edge of the visible ocean, the sun dips closer to the horizon. "Shall we watch the sunset together?"

"How romantic," she croons.

They pass the time, chatting idly about nothing and anything, sitting close but not quite touching. Then the sun sinks beneath the waves, and after a wink of farewell, so does Dorothea.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The days pass by in an exhausting blur for Edelgard. She's been all over the country, personally vetting and assessing all the governors for each territory. It was farfetched to expect her to be able to micromanage the entire Empire, but she doesn’t want to take her chances.

At present, she nurses a cup of tea in a glade on Hrym territory, with her cape spread beneath her like a blanket. 

Hubert drops a sheaf of papers in front of her, fastened so they don't scatter. "The Minister of Domestic Affairs didn't conduct all those surveys for you to inspect every region yourself, Lady Edelgard."

She doesn't look at the documents, keeping her eyes on her tea, as if they and Hubert would disappear if she ignored them long enough. They're still there when she drains her cup. 

"It's not that I don't trust Count Hevring," goodness knows he was one of the few nobles who was actually reliable with his job, "I just wanted to see for myself how effective these new leaders are, and what their relationship is with those they govern. With the centuries old nobility system gone, many people are confused and understandably so. A cunning opportunist may take advantage of this and I'll see to it that nothing of the sort happens."

"My spies can take care of that for you," he tells her, "you're adding unnecessary weight to your already heavy burdens. 

"I'd like to resolve this without a body count, thank you."

"Because obviously house arrest will take care of those 'cunning opportunists,' but I digress," he starts to collect the documents and her tea set. "We'd best be leaving soon if you want to make it back to Enbarr in time."

"Of course." There's always more meetings. Saturday couldn't come soon enough. "Once the Empire is stable, the Alliance and Kingdom are sure to see that they're better off without this ridiculous commoner-noble dichotomy. Then I can finally abdicate."

"So eager to be rid of your station, Your Majesty?" He sounds bemused. 

Edelgard pulls her cape over her shoulders, "I can't wait."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"I got you something." Edelgard slips the bangle from her coat pocket. She folds her coat and places it neatly on the sand, leaving her only in an undershirt and a pair of shorts. 

It makes her uncomfortable, being so exposed. Her normal attire always consisted of multiple layers, collars buttoned to her throat, gloves to cover her hands, not an inch of skin exposed outside her face. She'd bring all her layers with her in the water if she could, but that'd be beyond impractical. So the parts of herself she'd rather keep hidden, every ugly scar and blemished flesh was exposed for the world to see. 

Rather, only Dorothea at the moment. Fortunately, she has a distraction at hand.

"It's beautiful," Dorothea puts on the bangle, pushing back the bracelet she already had on that arm.

"It's also enchanted," she explains, "it won't rust or get warped by the pressure." 

"Who knew you were so good at magic. Or did you have it commissioned?"

"Something of the latter, I asked a friend of mine." She adds, "although he has a request in return. He wants to meet you. He's rather curious about sirens."

"I wouldn't mind," Dorothea says, still admiring the bangle, "he went through all the trouble after all."

"His name is Linhardt. I must warn you, his intellectual curiosity can make him quite inconsiderate at times. I swear to keep him in check."

"I have plenty of experience with pushy men, don't worry about me," she laughs. "Are you getting in the water or not?"

"I'm coming." 

Either the slope of the sand here wasn't as steep as in Brigid's or it was low tide. Edelgard had to walk quite a ways before she could get in water deep enough to practice her floating. Dorothea didn't seem to be too bothered by the shallowness, swimming easily in water that was only a couple feet deep.

"Hey, you're getting better!" Dorothea cheers as she circles her. 

Edelgard is floating on her back, almost perfectly horizontal. "I think it's getting easier for me to rela-" She's interrupted as a wave passes over her face.

"You're going to get wrinkles all over that cute face of yours if you keep scowling like that."

"Goddess forbid I get wrinkly in the water."

"Not on your face, silly."

Edelgard adjusts her position so that she's upright, treading water. She isn't quite able to keep her chin above the water, but the sand isn't too far below her and she can kick off it when she sinks.

"You want to try doing bubbles again?" Dorothea asks, referring to the breathing exercise Petra taught her before.

"I'd rather not," she confesses, "I'm not too comfortable under water."

"It's the best way for you to get accustomed to the feeling," she reasons, "besides, it's important you know how to manage your breathing in the water."

The thought makes her squirm, but she steels herself. She's already hopping in and out of the water anyways, so when she next goes under, she holds her breath. Her feet fall flat on the sand, the surface rippling a few inches above her head. Her eyes screw shut against the stinging salt. 

Slowly, she releases her breath. The bubbles stream out of her nose and escape to the surface. She stands their idly after the bubbles cease, feeling the press of the water and the pull of the tides. 

Then her lungs scream in protest. Realizing she can't breathe, Edelgard flounders out of the surface, gasping. 

"Woah there," Dorothea guides her to shallower waters until she can stand with her shoulders above the water.

Edelgard coughs, the seawater burning her nose and throat. "I don't like the water."

"And yet here you are," Dorothea frowns at her, concern on her face, along with something else.

"Yet here I am," she affirms. This is just another obstacle she has to surpass. One of the lesser ones, considering what she's been through thus far. "I'll try that again."

"You know you don't have to-" Dorothea starts to say but she's already ducked her head underwater.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like making Edie a wyvern rider for therapy purposes. Also IntSys should bring back Malig Knights imo Edie would ROCK that class!!


	4. Chapter 4

Edelgard gets accustomed to the water eventually. She can do the breathing exercises, tread water, swim, and Dorothea had even begun teaching her how to dive. They don't stray far from the shallows though, and Edelgard turned down her offer to take her to the depths, not quite ready to repeat the experience.

The weeks go by, a frustrating maze of government meetings that she has to navigate through before she can go to the beach with coarse sand. Her schedule hardly gave her the time, but if there's anything her harsh upbringing taught her, it's how to get her way despite the world's refusal.

"The nobility have been maintaining order since the dawn of the Empire," claims the standing Count of Rusalka. Edelgard would find a suitable replacement soon enough. "Appointing a lesser house- a commoner's house!- in the place of a reigning noble invites only chaos. Already, they are proving unable to control the common folk."

Edelgard resists the urge to rub her temples, "A clarification,  _ Count Rusalka _ ," she stresses the title, letting him know how easily she can revoke it, "it is not houses I am appointing to lead, but individuals. When I put Viscount Eugen in charge of Hrym, it is not his family that rules, but Eugen himself along with his chosen staff. When the time comes for him to step down, the position will go to the next candidate who proves capable and compassionate. The line of succession is no longer hereditary."

Count Rusalka opens his mouth to argue, but she silences him with an imperious bang of her gavel. "Viscount Eugen has proven himself a worthy leader thus far," she says with a nod to the person in question, "would you care to report on your current situation?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." Eugen had been a merchant before his appointment to viscount. In the midst of the chaos in the territory during the war, he had taken it upon himself to shoulder the burdens of the people, even if it sacrificed his profits in the process. He'd also been an outspoken critic to the failings of the previous noble house. Edelgard was thoroughly impressed. "Hrym is currently focused on rebuilding as we have suffered much during the war. Instead of imposing more taxes on the people, I requested aid from neighboring territories, and from you as well, Your Majesty."

"A request we granted," Ferdinand butts in before she can respond. "It is our duty as the heads of the Empire to see to the needs of our people. Most prudent of you to seek help rather than squeezing the masses dry for funds they do not even have."

"Thank you, Viscount Eugen. You as well, Duke Aegir," she adds that last part with a roll of her eyes. On a better day, she'd have control over her composure, but the meeting had dragged on several hours too many. The people present were already familiar with her dynamic with her former classmate anyway. 

"Will that be all?" She sweeps her gaze across everyone at the table. The commoners she put to office met her gaze with determination, eager to prove her right in her judgment. The nobles were more mixed. Some had confidence they'd keep their appointments through her rule while others were aware they stood on thin ice. 

At their silence, she gives a resounding bang with her gavel. "Adjourned."

It was past nightfall by the time they retire, but Edelgard wanted to meet with Dorothea anyway. They should've met earlier and she'd rather arrive late than not at all. She's quick to change clothes and rushes to the aerie. 

"I'd like to remind you, Lady Edelgard, that you have a meeting with the King and Duke in the morning," Hubert says, leaning against Nike's stall. 

She walks right past him, "I'm aware."

"It wouldn't do for you to sacrifice sleep for this."

"I'll sleep after the summit." Despite his dissuasions, Hubert had already prepared Nike's riding gear. 

"The Minister of Religion has an appointment with you at noon."

Ah, right. She mounts her wyvern. "I'll take a nap,  _ then _ I'll rest after the meeting."

He seems to look at her oddly. "Then you'll dedicate the afternoon and evening to rest, I assume?"

She racks her brain for any more prior commitments she had for tomorrow. Hubert seemed to be skirting around something. 

"I'll still be attending the war council." How could she forget! That meeting with her Strike Force has arguably the greatest import of all the day's appointments. Her work for the security of Fódlan would be for naught if Those Who Slither was left rampant.

Hubert gives her a wry smile, "as you say, Your Majesty."

She gives him a hard look, "don't let me sleep in, that's an order."

"Of course."

She doesn't quite believe him. She leaves for the beach regardless.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Dorothea isn’t there when she arrives. It would be selfish of her to expect the siren to wait for her despite her excessive tardiness, yet she was saddened all the same. Still, she came all this way and she didn’t want to turn back so soon.

She unties her hair, combing it through with her fingers. The frequent exposure to seawater was drying it out, she notes idly. Maybe she should seek Hilda during the summit to ask for hair care tips. 

She doffs her riding clothes and wades into the surf, taking her cape with her. The beach was littered with boulders and spires of rock. There was a particular one a little ways into the water that she and Dorothea frequently lounged on. She drapes her cape on it as a blanket and takes a seat.

The moon had waned to a thin crescent, giving way for the stars to shine in all their splendor. A breeze blows over the waves. Edelgard takes this moment of peace to let her thoughts wander. To the long day she has ahead of her, to the siren whose company she missed, to the meeting just earlier, how she’ll proceed from that…

“Edie, you’re scowling again.”

She blinks in surprise. The moon had drifted further in the sky, nearing the horizon. How long had she been spacing out?

Dorothea is staring at her, head half submerged in the water. Her eyes glinted even in the sparse light, emeralds in the darkness.

“I apologize, I was lost in thought.” Edelgard shifts to make room for her on the rock. 

She hauls herself up, thoroughly drenching her cape in the process. There was no avoiding getting wet around her, Edelgard supposes. Despite her waterlogged form, Dorothea's hair was as dry as ever. Droplets of water shone like stars on her silky tresses, never soaking through.

"Long day?" Dorothea asks, reclining on the rock. 

Edelgard leans back as well, "much longer than it had to be." Quietly, she adds, "thank you for coming here regardless."

"We did agree to meet, didn't we? I'm a woman of my word."

Edelgard merely hums at that, gratified.

Dorothea tilts her head at her, "do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

She considers refusing, preferring to escape her responsibilities and any mention of it, but the need to vent won her over. "I'm just frustrated with how slow progress is going. It was idealistic of me to expect things to go smoothly just because I'm Emperor. Even when I depose of troublesome nobles, competency can't be judged at a glance and I can't afford to leave their positions vacant."

Dorothea actually laughs at her, "only you can upend a centuries old class system in, what- five years?- and still consider it 'slow progress.'"

"You don't change the world by dreaming small," she smiles wryly at her. "I don't have the time to wait around."

"Life's too short, huh?"

It was a casual remark, but it cut through Edelgard like a knife. She masks her bitterness with dry humor. "You don't know the half of it."

"Still, you've got to take the time to relax. Surely Her Majesty can afford a day off?"

"It doesn't seem so. All the gold in my coffers and I can't afford a day off. How far the rich have fallen."

Dorothea throws her head back in laughter, rich and hearty, far from her melodious giggles. Edelgard is enchanted. "You are  _ solely  _ responsible for how far the rich have fallen."

Edelgard keeps up her humor, hoping to coax more reaction from her. "It appears so. My tendencies for self-sabotage knows no bounds. Whom shall I spite next, short people, perhaps?"

That earns her a chuckle. "Why short people?"

"While all people are born small, how much they can grow has already been decided from the very beginning. Horribly unfair, if you ask me. I should be able to grow taller if I put in the effort, yet life is cruel and the Goddess is absent as She is deaf."

Dorothea is cackling at this point, "Edie, your killing me!" 

"Don't you dare die on me," even Edelgard can't stop grinning, "without you, I have no escape from the agonizing existence that is politics."

"We met barely a month ago, and already so dependent," she shakes her head, tutting. "It's a wonder you haven't been driven mad yet."

"True, the political field of Fódlan is rife with insanity. Curiously enough, I find that all I'm crazy for is you."

The words are out of her mouth before she can think about them, and now that she processed what she said, she's rendered as speechless as Dorothea. The siren is staring at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Edie," she nudges her playfully, "a girl could get used to this side of you."

Edelgard could only chuckle in response, her pride of beating Dorothea at her own game outweighed by nerves at the implications. Edelgard had traded her fair share of flirtatious quips, usually with Sylvain or Claude, but they were never genuine, either friendly banter or grudging rivalry. Yet the flutter in her chest tells her she meant what she said to Dorothea. 

The siren, for her part, takes it all in stride. Briefly stunned by her remark, sure, but otherwise unaffected. She's back to her usual chatty self while Edelgard struggles to keep up while hiding her tumultuous thoughts. Dorothea had been flirting with her since day one. She was a natural charmer, not unlike her former classmates. Did Edelgard dare to read into it?

"It's getting late," she notes, watching the moon. "I should probably head back."

Dorothea pouts, "I guess this is goodnight then. Oh, would you look at that, your ride left you!"

Edelgard squints at the shore in the darkness, not finding Nike's scaly form. She suspects he's in the cliffs nearby, harassing seagulls or lounging on the rocks. She can call him easily enough with a whistle. Instead, she speaks with the detached tone of bad acting, "how unfortunate, it seems I have no choice but to stay here. Would you mind terribly if I took a nap on you?"

Dorothea grins, seemingly pleased to keep her there. Edelgard once again ponders how much of it is just her nature and how much is genuine interest in her. "Since you asked so nicely, I shall allow it."

Edelgard curls up on their makeshift blanket, resting her head on her arm. It wasn't particularly comfortable, her cape wasn't thick enough to cover the crags of the rock entirely and it was damp. They were also exposed to the elements, but at least the weather was pleasant.

Dorothea stretches languidly next to her before settling in a more comfortable position, sprawled on the rock with her tail skimming the surface of the water. "Do you have to leave early tomorrow?"

"Yes, I have quite a day ahead of me." She'll have to rely on her instincts to wake her up in time. Fortunately, she was an early riser.

"Then you'll have to rest up while you can," she closes her eyes, curling up so her tail brushes at Edelgard's legs. "We'll meet up again soon, alright? 'Night, Edie."

"Goodnight, Dorothea." 

What a strange thing this friendship, this infatuation. She'd given up her schoolgirl dreams of a passionate romance years ago, yet a shipwreck later and here she was: on a wet rock on the beach, lying beneath the stars with her crush.

Her  _ crush. _

Edelgard covers her face with her hands, feeling pathetic. She was the Emperor of Adrestia, destroyer of the Church of Seiros, unifier of Fòdlan, and now she was quailing at the thought of sleeping next to a woman. It would be just her luck if she manages to do something embarrassing in her sleep. 

She stiffens as a realization occurs to her. She does do embarrassing things in her sleep, frequently at that. It would be mortifying if Dorothea caught her in one of her nightmares. Edelgard has half the mind to call Nike and flee then and there when Dorothea started to sing.

It was a lullaby, soft and hypnotic. Just like that, all her anxieties melt away and she drifts into a dreamless sleep.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The sky is only starting to brighten with the pale light of dawn when Edelgard wakes up. Dorothea is still fast asleep. She carefully shifts her tail away so she can stand up and stretch, muscles stiff from her less than stellar sleeping spot.

“Edie?” Dorothea stirs, squinting blearily at her.

“I’ll be leaving now,” she whispers, “you can go back to sleep.”

“Hmm… bye.” She takes a corner of the cape as she rolls over, wrapping herself in it. 

Edelgard doubts she’ll get her cape back soon. She wades back to shore, scanning the surroundings for her wandering wyvern. She spots his antler-like horns peeking out of the jagged cliffs. She puts her fingers to her lips and let out a sharp whistle. She glances back at Dorothea to check if it awoke her. The siren doesn’t stir, still swaddled in her cape.

Nike clambers down to her with a shower of loose pebbles. 

“Clumsy lizard,” she pets his snout affectionately. “I’ve got a long day ahead of me. Let’s get it over with.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, that's it for my backlog. Next update shall be whenever, I'll try to wrap this up before June tho
> 
> hopefully this chapter was entertaining enough to *tide* you over until the next ;D  
> ... I'll *sea* myself out now ;D ;D ;D


	5. Chapter 5

  
  


A knock sounds at the door. “Lady Edelgard?”

She straightens up from the documents she was poring over. “Enter.”

Hubert slips into her room, looking slightly miffed as he eyes her. “I would have woken you up, you know. You needn’t have kept yourself busy when you could’ve been resting.”

“I didn’t stay up because I didn’t trust you,” she stifled her yawn behind a cup of tea, “Count Greta just gave me a lot to think about.” During her father’s reign, the role of the Minister of Religion slowly shifted from a spiritual leader to a judiciary one, much to the chagrin of the Minister of Domestic affairs. Now that Edelgard had the crown, she needed to establish order. "Shall we?"

“Of course,” he huffs as she follows him out of her room. They continue to talk on the way to the advisor’s chamber, keeping their voices low, wary of listening ears even in the empty halls.

“If I may, Your Majesty,” he whispers, gaze straight ahead. A casual observer might not even notice they were talking. "You've been rather distracted as of late."

"If you are referring to my momentary lapse during the summit, I can assure you it's not a frequent occurrence." She’ll admit that her thoughts were scattered during the meeting, but between Ferdinand and Lorenz, most of the discussion was repeated enough times for Edelgard to piece together what was happening and participate. Hopefully no one else caught her daydreaming.

"Perhaps it will be even less frequent if you'd spent the night at the palace instead of gallivanting off in the coast."

Once upon a time, Hubert would never talk back to her like this. The nonchalance is both a blessing and a curse. Presently, it is more of the latter. "I actually slept last night, thank you very much."

“Still, as your aide, I must advise against spending your time and energy so frivolously. I understand the need for recreation, but not when it threatens your performance in your duties,” he says, as logical and aloof as ever.

“You overstep,” she scolds him, “what I do with my free time is none of your concern.”

“You can’t just steal away into the night and call it ‘free time,’ and for what?” he sounds exasperated, “swimming lessons? A chat with a friend?”

“It’s more than that!” she retorts, discarding their veneer of silence. She looks at him, for the first time, and is somehow unsurprised to see him smirking at her. “You are a horrible person. How could you do this to me?”

“Do what, Your Majesty?” He stops feigning ignorance and smiles more gently at her. A blessing and curse indeed. “Your sentiments are yours and yours alone, and I am happy for you, truly. However my concern for your wellbeing stands and I’m certain the others have noticed as well.”

Edelgard doesn’t ask for clarification on what exactly the others have noticed. She crosses her arms petulantly. “This isn’t fair. Your boyfriend lives in the capital with us, you don’t have to deal with this.”

“You do have the tendency to fall for the most inconvenient of people.”

“I can only hope it isn’t unrequited this time.” Edelgard doesn’t pout. Even if she did, she’ll never admit it.

“Perhaps you should cut back on your workload?” he suggests, “I’m sure there are others whom you can delegate some of your tasks to.”

She considers this with reluctance. It was difficult for her to trust others to do her job as well as she herself did. “Perhaps,” she says as they reach the advisors’ chamber. She gives him a pointed glance, “this conversation is over.”

“Of course,” he opens the door for her with a bow.

Lysithea is already inside when they enter. She’s sitting at the longtable with a pile of books and a candelabra, and she greets them with a nod. “The others aren’t here yet.”

Edelgard eyes the timepiece, “they have a few more minutes.”

They were only waiting for Linhardt and Byleth, both have the tendencies to lose track of time in either sleep or exploration. There are never more than a few of them in attendance in such meetings. Large gatherings are sure to get Thales’ attention, especially since her generals were so scattered these days.

She takes a seat at the head of the table, Hubert inspects the room while Lysithea returns to her reading. They don’t wait for too long before their former professor pokes their head into the room.

“Is this everyone?” they ask, taking a seat.

“There’s still Linhardt,” Edelgard replies.

Lysithea peeks under the table, “maybe he’s here already, we just didn’t notice.”

“I can confirm he’s not here,” Hubert tells her.

The man in question enters as if on cue. He rubs his eyes blearily, “oh good, you’re all here. Lysithea, are you looking for something?”

“Yes, you in fact.”

“Under the table?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Byleth says.

“Well, I wouldn’t be sleeping under that table,” Linhardt tells them, “If I were to nap in this room, the closet at the back would be far more preferable. It’s cozy, private, and the compartment inside is at the optimal level to rest a pillow on.”

Hubert smiles at him, thin-lipped and mildly threatening. “Then I’ll be sure to keep the closet locked.”

“You are a horrible person.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Order in the court,” Edelgard calls jokingly, wishing for her gavel. She adored her friends, she really did, but they needed to focus right now.

They settle down and Edelgard sweeps her gaze among them. The set up reminds her of their meetings in the cardinal’s room during the war. Back then, it would be her teacher who sat at the helm. Now Edelgard took that position while Byleth sat at the side. She finds it a little strange.

“Professor,” she addresses them, “anything to report?”

“There continues to be activity going in and out of Shambhala,” Byleth says. They’ve been on reconnaissance with Shamir in preparation for their attack on the stronghold. “It’s hard to gauge what this really means for us, considering they can teleport. We haven’t tried entering yet. Shamir thinks she can manage, but I’ve vetoed it for now.”

“It would be unwise to enter the viper’s den without a proper contingency plan,” Hubert nods to them. “I can scout with her and warp us out should the need arise.”

Byleth leans back, satisfied. Though markedly more expressive than when they first met, Byleth remains fairly stolid. 

Lysithea pipes up, “what of Arundel?”

“He hasn’t tried anything drastic,” Edelgard’s hands curl into fists on her lap, “yet. He’s been planting dissent and stirring trouble, especially among ousted nobles. Otherwise, he keeps a low profile. It’s safe to assume he knows we’re scheming and is concocting a plan of his own.”

“As long as he doesn’t know _what_ we’re scheming about, I think we’ll be fine.” Linhardt waves his hand, “I think some misdirection is in order. Lead him to think we’re plotting something else, maybe have some vital information ‘leaked’ from our meetings, or pretend our attention is on something else...”

Byleth lets out an unexpected chuckle. “Good thing Edelgard doesn’t have to pretend for that last part.

Edelgard glares daggers into them. They return it with a smile that can only be described as cheeky.

Unfortunately, her companions are more easily distracted than her enemies. Linhardt rests his elbows on the table, eyes shining with keen interest. “A trip to the beach sounds lovely this time of the year, wouldn’t you say? If they see us with our guards down, perhaps they’ll drop theirs as well.”

“Or they’ll take the opportunity to strike first,” she points out. Defensiveness flares within her in anticipation of their teasing. At the same time, her paranoia realizes the possibility that Those Who Slither could have been watching her escapades with Dorothea.

“Now, now,” Lysithea says with a pointed look at Linhardt. “We only entertain serious suggestions here.”

At least someone still has sense, Edelgard sighs with relief. “Thank you, Lysithea.”

She turns to grin at her. “Afterall, Edelgard has been frequenting the beach often enough. To bring her friends along is only the logical progression, and should they attack, we’re already gathered as an elite Strikeforce.”

The betrayal stuns her for a moment, but she stamps it down with cold irritation. “I see… So this is how it is.”

Byleth leans towards her, chin resting on their fist. Though their smile is slight, their eyes sparkle with mirth. “Are you so against us meeting your little mermaid friend?”

“At this rate, my teacher, I’m not sure I can survive the teasing.” She casts her gaze at Hubert, daring him to pick a side. He merely spreads his hands in response.

He inclines his head towards Byleth. “Professor, strategically speaking, what do you think of this?”

“I think bringing Dorothea into this is incredibly and unnecessarily risky,” Edelgard cuts in.

Byleth nods, “that is true. As bait for Those Who Slither, I’m against the plan. As an outing, however,” they turn to her, gaze knowing but patient, “that’s entirely for El to decide.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Edelgard’s cape is waiting for her in the sand when she arrives, folded but stiff from drying in the sun and salt. 

“I probably shouldn’t have hogged it from you the other night,” Dorothea apologizes sheepishly, “my bad.”

“I didn’t mind,” she assures her, “I have plenty just like it.”

This seems to amuse her. “Really?” she raises an eyebrow, “Why do you have so many copies of the same outfit.”

“A consistent image can be a powerful thing in rallying the people.” Edelgard thumbs the embroidery at the back, a twin-headed eagle, flying free from the Crest of Seiros that used to loom behind it. “I used to wear this to battle during the war. The Emperor can’t very well be seen leading her troops to battle in patchwork regalia, no matter how many flowers Bernadetta sews at the seams. So I just replace the cape whenever it gets ruined.”

Dorothea laughs, “I don’t know about that. I think I’d rather see you in floral patchwork.” 

“I’ve worked too hard to be intimidating to let that happen. Although,” she muses, “some of my casual wear have been embroidered. I could wear that next time.” 

Bernadetta often repaired her friends’ clothes for them and she had a habit of sewing whimsical designs on them as she did. The Strikeforce wore them like badges of honor, frequently showing off and comparing patterns. Edelgard had several blouses that had little bears or plants sewn on them. In terms of quantity, Hubert was the uncontested embroidery patch champion as Bernadetta thought the little flowers made him easier to be around with.

“That’ll be cute.” Dorothea runs her hands along her cape, “say, If you’re not going to miss it, don’t suppose I can keep this one?”

"Oh?"

"Only if it's okay with you, of course," she adds with a wink. Edelgard could've sworn she saw a blush on her scale-speckled cheeks.

She hums in consideration. She genuinely doesn't mind letting Dorothea have her cape, she would be giddy, in fact, though the implications give her pause. Sharing clothes was a couple's thing, right?

Edelgard spreads the cape with a quick flick then drapes it over Dorothea's shoulders. "Since it looks so good on you," she says with an appreciative glance, "I'll let you keep it."

"You think so?" she giggles, adjusting the cape and striking a pose. Even in the warm light of the setting sun, Edelgard is almost certain she's blushing.

Dorothea bats her eyelashes at her, coy and bubbly. Edelgard’s cape- now hers- is rumpled with rigid creases that hadn't been shaken out and it hangs awkwardly on her lithe frame. The bangle she gave her before gleams proudly on her wrist.

Edelgard feels her throat tighten. Surely Dorothea must feel the same way? If she doesn't let her know how she feels, the emotions may just physically hurt her. Still, doubt lingers at the back of her mind. She figures she didn't become so successful thus far by second-guessing herself, and opening her heart to others had proven to be the best, though admittedly also the hardest, decision of her life.

Forcing herself to meet Dorothea's gaze, she whispers, "you're beautiful."

Dorothea freezes, staring at her. 

This wasn't their usual playful flirting. Edelgard feels raw, vulnerable, and uncomfortably out of her element. Dorothea is still looking at her, luminous green eyes searching her very soul. She tries to hold her gaze, but her abashment burns at her cheeks and without a mask to hide behind, she falters.

She looks away, "I apologize if that was too- "

A gentle hand on her jaw guides her eyes back to Dorothea's, effectively shutting her up.

"Hey," she whispers, voice soft and sounding as vulnerable as Edelgard feels.

Their faces are inches apart. Edelgard can see the fading sunlight glinting off every scale, on her earrings, in her eyes… She swallows thickly.

She isn't sure who leaned in first, maybe they both did, then their lips press together in a kiss. Technically, she thinks idly, this would be their third. It wasn’t underwater, but it was as magical as the previous ones and it left her just as breathless. The kiss was tense at first, filled with hesitation and uncertainty. Dorothea tilts her head, moving her lips slowly against hers until they relax into each other with a sigh.

Dorothea's eyes are half lidded when they part, watching her with a small smile. "You really are something special, Edie."

"I've been called many things, not all of them pleasant," she says softly, heady affection mulling her thoughts, "but 'something special' must be the vaguest of them all."

"Maybe we should try that again until I figure it out?"

Edelgard obliges her another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> n the,n,, they keep,, kissimg,,, *smorch*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the thing I was writing turned out to be Long and I am impatient, so have some shenanigans 
> 
> by the same token, Mermay will be over before this fic is but that's okay because time isn't real and I am adept at ignoring its passage

The following weeks bring with it a string of joyful happenings. Caspar had just returned from his journeys with Ashe, Brigid had settled down enough that Petra found the time to return to Fódlan for a visit, and Ferdinand got the approval to convert Garreg Mach into a public school. The last was just bursting with exuberance that they insisted on a celebration. So after a stop over at Varley to pick up Bernadetta, the day finds the former Black Eagles and their professor lounging on the seafloor. 

“Most intriguing,” Linhardt mutters, treading carefully on the sand. “Our ocular, auditory, and perhaps even our olfactory senses have adapted perfectly to the submarine environment. Breathing, water pressure, and temperature are non-issues, however our locomotion was not enhanced in the slightest.”

He looks up at Dorothea who was swimming lazy circles above them. “How does that work?”

“I kiss people then magic happens?”

“There has to be more to it than that,” his brows furrow. “I need data. With nine of us here, that should be an adequate enough sample. What kind of tests can I take? I’d hate to get physical but I may need skin cells to understand how it alters the body. A swab, perhaps?”

“Your lab would have to be underwater as well,” Edelgard tells him, “the spell would be broken above the surface.”

“Most frustrating,” he grumbles.

Caspar laughs, “only because you’re thinking about it so hard. Just have some fun!” With that, he bowls him over with a mighty shove. 

Linhardt is swept easily off his feet and drifts through the water. “Despite the lack of air, our bodies remain fairly buoyant,” he notes, spinning slowly, “making it rather difficult to walk with the currents milling about.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re supposed to swim, genius.” Caspar continues to push him through the water, much like a puppy with a large ball.

“Too much effort.”

Dorothea grabs Linhardt by the arms, and with a sudden pivot,  _ flings _ him deeper into the reef. His only reaction is a belated “hey” as he disappears over a ridge of coral.

“Oh! Oh!” Had Caspar been on land, he probably would be jumping up and down. As it is, he just flails his limbs around. “Do me next!”

“Sure thing,” she giggles. Dorothea spins him a couple of times before tossing him after his friend. 

Edelgard watches them with wry amusement… and something else. Something uncomfortable twisting in her gut. Before she has the chance to dwell on it, Petra swims up to her.

“What are you doing sitting on the ground?" She says, pulling her up, "Dorothea told me you have much improvement with swimming. I need to be seeing this myself."

Ferdinand comes up behind her. "How about some friendly competition for old times' sake, Edelgard? I bet I could swim faster than you to that rock over there."

If he challenged her that years ago, she would have brushed him off. Now, she still isn't particularly motivated. "I have nothing to prove to you."

"Now, now," he laughs, blithe as ever, "you would have no reason to refuse unless losing is too much for you."

“If we are to be having a race, I will also have participation," Petra declares. She casts a glance at Edelgard. "Do you still refuse?"

There was no beating Petra in a swimming contest, that was for certain. However, she does owe her a progress report. "Very well, I'll swim." She adds with emphasis, "for you."

Petra grins while Ferdinand pouts, but his spirits don't remain damp for long. They arrange themselves on an imaginary starting line. 

"On your mark," he says with more dramatic flare than his usual inflection, "get set, go!"

As predicted, Petra beats them by a large margin, startling Bernadetta who had apparently been behind the rock with Hubert. Edelgard manages to secure second place, something she's internally smug about. She isn't sure how strong a swimmer Ferdinand actually is, but he certainly hasn't been spending as much time in the water as she had recently.

"Ah, the bitter tang of defeat," he shakes his head with a smile. It stretches wider as he turns to Hubert. "It tastes almost as bad as coffee."

"One would think you'd have gotten used to both those flavors by now."

"That was amazing!" Petra cheers as she wraps her in a hug, "to think you had ocean fear only months ago. My heart is full of pride for you."

"It's all thanks to you and Dorothea," she says, squeezing her back. "You have my gratitude."

"Look," Bernadetta exclaims, getting their attention, "there's an anemone here, and it even has clownfish!" Her eyes are wide with excitement and she gestures excitedly. "I've only seen these in books."

Edelgard examines the little creatures, and they were little indeed. The fish aren't even the size of her thumb. "They're smaller than I expected."

"You haven't seen them before?"

She shakes her head. "This is also my first time being underwater just to look around. Though I've seen the reef in passing in Brigid, I never got a closer look."

"Really?" Bernadetta tilts her head, "I figured you and Dorothea did this all the time. It would certainly be, uh, easier for you."

She's blushing as she says that. Edelgard knows she's referring to the kiss that was necessary for the spell. Some of her friends took it in stride while others were beyond embarrassed by the contact. Bernadetta fell in the latter part of the spectrum.

"With the drawback it comes with, I won't be making a habit of this." They already knew the consequences of the spell from when she first told them upon her return, but knowing and experiencing were two entirely different things. They likely wouldn't be so eager after they resurface for the first time. At least they have a picnic waiting for them on the beach.

"Hey, would you look at that," Caspar says, swimming up to them, "the gang's all here!"

He's followed by Linhardt, Dorothea, and even Lysithea. The pale-haired girl wasn't a particularly strong swimmer and kept a hand on the siren's arm to keep up. She lets go as they approach.

"Not everybody," she notes, "where's the professor?"

"I'm sure they haven't gone too far," Edelgard replies. Even if they did, they'll come back soon enough. "How do you like the ocean so far?"

Lysithea's eyes light up. "It's incredible! down here, we can make observations even scholars can only dream of making. Imagine the applications if there's no limit to how deep we can go. We can salvage shipwrecks, or map the ocean floor!"

"I didn't know you had an interest in such topics," she says teasingly, "not very related to your current research."

"True," she says wistfully, staring at the distance, where the landscape faded into deep blue. "But it's impossible not to dream down here. It's… well, for the lack of a better term, it's enchanting."

"Indeed it is." Edelgard looks back at the others- Petra was giving Ferdinand tips on how to swim better, somehow bringing Hubert into it as well. Dorothea prodded and teased the two men while chatting amicably with Petra. Caspar and Bernadetta eagerly showed each other around the reef, the former dragging Linhardt along. "It's not a bad thing to dream. Remember what you promised me?"

She nods solemnly, "never to give up on my life. I hold you to that as well."

She pats her fondly on the head, "good girl."

"Ugh, I told you to stop calling me that!" Lysithea indignantly bats away her hand.

She ignores her and continues to pat her head. Like everyone else with long hair, her hair was tied so Edelgard couldn't ruffle it like she wanted.

"You are the worst!" She squirms from her and tries to swim away. Edelgard easily follows. "Stop being so childish!"

She finally relents. "Alright, alright." She glances around again. "I'll go look for the professor."

"You do that," Lysithea scoffs petulantly, trudging back to the others.

It didn't take her too long to find Byleth. Her teacher stood at the edge of the reef, where the corals grew sparse as they gave way to open ocean. The vast expanse before them rekindles Edelgard's fear of the depths, but she musters the courage to stand by the professor.

"Something on your mind, my teacher?"

Byleth continues to stare ahead. Their deep teal hair billows in the currents, almost blending into the ocean itself. With a placid expression that belies their sheer strength and tenacity, Byleth could put any ocean to shame.

"Do you think I could fish from down here?" they say, "with a rod, I mean."

"I don't see why you can't. Even if the fish can see you, they probably won't trace the bait back to you."

They turn to look at her, "this isn't strange to you?"

"What is?"

"Fish."

"What would I find strange about them?"

They blink. "You're dating one."

"Dorothea is a  _ siren _ , not a fish," she scoffs. "She's certainly not one of those dull things you catch with a worm on a string."

"Dull? Definitely not. But you have to admit," Byleth's mouth quirks in the barest hint of a smirk, "she's a reel catch."

Edelgard groans. "This is why I don’t go fishing with you."

"Edie!"

Speaking of…

Dorothea swims up to them, "and the professor!"

"You don't have to call me that. I never taught you."

"But everyone else calls you that, I don't want to be left out. Besides, my Edie thinks so highly of you."

"Does she?" Byleth spares Edelgard a look.

She looks between her teacher and Dorothea, feeling as if she stepped into an ambush of sorts. 

Byleth returns her gaze to the siren. "She thinks highly of you, too. She paints you a lot."

"You paint?" Dorothea grins at her, filled with wonder and mirth.

"Professor!" 

"Sorry, was that one of the things I was supposed to forget about?" They tap their fist to their chin in an exaggerated gesture of thought, "that list keeps growing and I'm starting to lose track."

Edelgard smacks her forehead with her palm. Her teacher is going to be the death of her. 

“Sounds like an important list,” Dorothea says, “maybe you should go through it aloud.”

“They can’t do that because they forgot  _ everything  _ on the list,” Edelgard narrows her eyes at her teacher in warning.

“That’s a shame,” they say mildly. “But it’s probably for the best if you don’t see her paintings. El might not leave her chambers for a month.”

Before Edelgard can strangle the professor, Linhardt saunters up to them. “Ah, there you are, Dorothea. I have more questions.”

The exaggerated sigh she heaves speaks volumes on how many she’s been asked already.

“Well, I’ll be going now. I didn’t bring my rod but I can try knife fishing.” Byleth unsheathes their dagger. They start to move away, but pauses. “Oh, I almost forgot,” they grab Dorothea by the arm, whispers something that causes the siren to blanch, then turns away with a jaunty wave. “Later.”

Edelgard raises a questioning brow at her to which she only winks in response.

“What was that about?” Linhardt asks.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” she twirls a lock of her hair distractedly. “You were going to ask me something?”

“Right,” he drawls, watching her. “That reminds me, your hair is waterproof, yes? May I examine it?”

“Um, okay?”

Linhardt moves behind her, running his fingers through her hair and muttering to himself. The discomfort writhing inside Edelgard returns with a vengeance. She finds herself moving closer to the two.

“Will I be correct in assuming that your hair stays dry due to a waterproof oil?” he wonders, “is it natural?”

“Yes, but I do have to comb it regularly,” she fluffs up her hair with pride, “hair this luscious requires a lot of upkeep.”

“Interesting. Can it be harvested?”

“... what?”

“Linhardt!” Edelgard scolds.

He raises his hands, “I’m just saying, don’t  _ you _ want to try having waterproof hair? You even went on that ridiculous shopping trip with Hilda and Marianne to buy bullions worth of hair care products.”

“How is that comparable to harvesting oil from a  _ person _ ?”

“I’m sure there are painless methods of extraction,” he shrugs, “and we might not even need that much if we can synthesize more from a sample.”

“You’re a strange one,” Dorothea tells him.

“You never did confirm if I can get a sample. Maybe from a lock of your hair-”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Edelgard hauls Linhardt by the shoulders and throws him back into the reef.

Dorothea laughs, “how very gallant of you to be so defensive on my behalf.”

“I did promise to keep him in check,” she huffs, the strange feeling in her chest dissipating. 

Dorothea narrows her eyes at her, leaning close.

“Um, Dorothea?”

She pokes her cheek. “Edie, were you jealous?”

“Jealous? Of Linhardt?” Heat prickles up her neck as she says it, confirming the feeling that had been niggling at her. What her body can’t deny, Edelgard can do so verbally. “There’s no reason for me to be jealous. And of what, his intellectual curiosity for you?”

Dorothea is grinning now, taking her by the hands and spinning them in circles. “Poor Edie, you don’t like it when your friends get too cozy with me, do you? Oh, and you had to watch me kiss them all! That must have been so hard on you!”

“My ego isn’t nearly so fragile,” she protests. 

“Don’t worry,” she says, grin turning devilish, “I have  _ special _ kisses that I saved just for you.” Dorothea doesn’t really tackle her, but her balance was already off from being spun around on the shifting sands. She finds herself swept off her feet and drifting to the seabed on her back. 

Her mouth presses insistently against hers and Edelgard responds in kind, wrapping an arm around her shoulders while her other hand tangles into her hair. They don’t pull away until her lungs burn- even underwater, she still needs to breathe normally- though Dorothea isn’t nearly as winded. Her grin softens to a smile as she looks down at her, the rouge around her lips smudged.

Edelgard’s skin heats up where she can imagine similar stains as she wipes at her mouth with a forearm. “Where do you even get your cosmetics? They’re rather difficult to remove.”

“Edie, when you live in the  _ ocean _ , everything you wear should be difficult to remove. Though, I’ll admit,” she smirks at her, “this is a nice bonus.”

“You just like to make a mess of me.”

“Only because it looks good on you.” She kisses her again, trailing from her lips, down to her jaw, to her neck. Edelgard bites her bottom lip to stifle a gasp as pointed teeth dig into the dip of her throat, not enough to break the skin but likely to leave a mark.

“Edelgard? Dorothea? Are you the- Gah!”

She abruptly shoves Dorothea off her at the sound of the voice. 

“I- what-” Lysithea splutters in embarrassment until she finally manages to shout, “here, really?”

“Where else?” Dorothea teases, settling back down on her, running suggestive fingers along her side. “What did you think we get up to whenever we meet?”

“Dorothea,” Edelgard says warningly. The light scrape of sharp nails along her ribs sends a thrill down her spine, but it’s not something she wishes to entertain with an audience. 

Poor Lysithea is blushing to the roots of her hair. “I’ll be, uh, going now then. Carry on- wait, no- I mean- ugh!” With that, she turns tail and swims away as fast as her limbs can carry her.

“I sure hope we didn’t traumatize her,” Dorothea giggles shamelessly. “She’s kind of like you, but smaller. Well, not smaller. Younger, I suppose.”

“Lysithea is like a sister to me.” Edelgard reaches up to rub her fin between her fingers. They were rather sensitive, she discovered, and Dorothea shivers at the touch, leaning into it. “I probably can’t expect eye contact anytime soon.”

“That’s too bad,” she muses, slightly dazed. “You’re other friends won’t be interrupting, I hope?”

She draws her back in. “I’m sure they can take a hint.” 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Edelgard continues to do the impossible by securing yet another day off, and she’s more than content to spend it cuddling with Dorothea. They’re lying down on a blanket in the sand, with her head on the siren’s chest and her legs tangled with her tail. 

Dorothea’s hands wander, from combing through her hair, trailing down her back, rubbing circles on her hip. Edelgard is already relaxed against her but then, as if her ministrations weren’t enough, she starts to sing. The combined power of her enchanting voice and gentle hands makes Edelgard  _ melt _ .

“Hmm,” Edelgard can barely form coherent thought, putty in her hands, “you’re cheating.”

“You like it,” she sings.

“Fair enough.”

Eventually the song fades into a hum, then tapers further into silence. The haze of pleasure in her mind dissipating, she blinks up at her. “Dorothea?”

There’s a lag before her response. Her gaze set on the sky above. “Yes, Edie?”

She rolls over to her stomach so they’re facing each other. “Is something on your mind?”

“If you want me to keep singing, you need only say so,” she chuckles. It sounds hollow in her ears.

“It’s not that,” Edelgard shakes her head. “There seems to be something bothering you. You can confide in me if you’d like.”

She hums, not in her hypnotic melodies, but merely in consideration.

“I was thinking about us, actually.” She says at last. “How far we can take this.”

“How… far?” her cheeks heat up as she realizes how compromising their positions are. Dorothea can probably feel her heart racing with nothing but two layers of clothes between them.

“Edie, stop being adorable,” she snorts, “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Apologies. You were saying?” 

She moves to get off of her, but Dorothea keeps her in place. “Don’t go, I like this.”

“Very well,” Edelgard settles back into her embrace. “Continue.”

“I was wondering,” she trails off, gathering her thoughts, “about the future. I mean, you’re the  _ Emperor _ of Adrestia and I’m just a little ol’ mermaid. How long can we keep going like this, with you running around scrounging for free time? You’re a busy woman, I respect that.” Dorothea gets notably distraught as she speaks, her nails digging anxiously into Edelgard’s back. “I can’t help but feel… like I’m a burden.”

“Dorothea,” she cups her cheeks, looking her in the eye, “you are never a burden. Don’t belittle yourself like that.”

She looks unconvinced. Unable to think of how better to get her point across, Edelgard presses her mouth against her own. “You’re not a burden,” she repeats when she pulls away. “My life couldn't be complete without you.”

“You really mean that?” Dorothea tilts her head at her. She’s in brighter spirits now, eyes twinkling, lips curved in a smile.

“Of course, you're irreplaceable. How can I convince you of your worth to me?”

“I don’t know,” she says cheekily, “that thing you just did was very telling. Maybe try that again.”

Edelgard complies, kissing her languidly this time. Dorothea pulls her closer, deepening the kiss until they’re both breathless. 

“Do you believe me yet?”

“Nope, do that again.”

Edelgard cuffs her fin playfully. “There’s something I should’ve told you sooner. If it’ll put your mind at ease, now is as good a time as any.”

“Oh?”

“We don’t have to go on like this for much longer.” She tells her, “I’m only so busy because the reforms I made were radical. In due time, the Empire will settle down and later, so can I.”

She scoffs, “and then you’ll only have a hundred meetings per week, as opposed to a thousand.”

“And then I won’t have meetings at all.” Feeling bold, she winks. “I’m going to abdicate.”

Dorothea laughs. Then freezes, “goddess, you’re serious?”

“Yes, I’ve been planning to do so from the start really.” She rests her head on Dorothea’s collar. “I wanted to change the world, but I was never meant to rule it. Not for long at least. I’ve already begun vetting potential successors.”

"You're giving up the crown just like that?" She sounded incredulous. "For all your talk about the flaws of the nobility system, I didn't think you'd actually let go of your own title."

"You think me a hypocrite?" She asks, more teasing than biting.

"Of course not! It's just that you're exactly the kind of person who  _ deserves  _ their station. Adrestia couldn't ask for a better emperor."

"By the time I abdicate, I would've already done all I can for my country. If they cannot carry on without me, then that's a failure on my part." She sighs, "Let the bright future of the Empire be the legacy of House Hresvelg, even if there's no one left to carry the name."

"You talk like you're the end of your house," Dorothea watches her carefully.

"It's not like I'll be having children."

"Confident about that, are you?" She tilts her head, "you're still young and with a long future ahead of you. What do you plan to do after you abdicate?"

Edelgard blinks. The future after her rule had always been nebulous to her. She didn't have a lot of time, afterall. She'd said she'll finally be able to do nothing but relax and eat sweets, but she never had a concrete plan to go with it. She'll step down, disappear from the public eye… and then what?

"I suppose I'll spend the rest of my life with you." She finds herself smiling as she envisions it, "maybe I could move to Brigid. The beaches there are nicer. Get a cottage by the sea, or even a boat."

"Edie," Dorothea breathes, "is that a proposal?"

She stiffens. It was so easy for her to think in terms of "the rest of her life," but Dorothea didn't know how short that was. It wouldn't be fair to her if she was promised a dying hand in marriage.

Sensing her hesitation, Dorothea visibly deflates. Edelgard gives her a light peck on the lips in contrition.

"It's still some ways off," Edelgard says jovially, trying to bring back the levity from earlier. "Let's wait and see."

"Sure." Dorothea is obviously not appeased.

Guilt claws at her insides, but Edelgard didn't know how to fix things. She should be forthright about her condition…

Before she can speak, a large scaly head looms over them.

“Nike,” she bats at his snout, “we’re having a moment here.” The wyvern grumbles as he plods off.

“Aww, the big baby just wants a little attention. Nike,” Dorothea coos, “over here!”

Nike looks suspiciously between the two of them, then crawls back. Edelgard disentangles herself from Dorothea so the two of them can sit up. The wyvern plops his head across their laps and gazes up at them imploringly for scratches.

Dorothea snickers as she pets him, “he’s just as needy as you are.”

“I have more dignity than that,” she huffs, rubbing the base of his horns.

“At least he knows what he wants.”

Edelgard schools her expression to hide her wince. Frustration bubbles inside her, making her put more pressure behind her scratches. Dorothea gives her a patented look from the corner of her eye, gauging her reaction. The tension is uncomfortable between them, especially since they had been so relaxed just moments earlier. At least Nike is enjoying himself.

An idea occurs to her. She can defuse the atmosphere first and then talk it over with Dorothea when she’s no longer cross with her. As of now, it doesn’t look like she’ll react well to  _ “by the way, I’m terminally ill.” _

“Do you want to try flying, Dorothea?”

“Flying?” The question takes her by surprise, there isn’t even irritation in her voice. 

Edelgard pats Nike’s head. “Since you’ve shown me the sea, it’s only fair I show you the sky. Adrestia looks much different from an aerial perspective."

"Really," she drawls, seeing her ploy for the distraction it is. Dorothea decides to humor her regardless. "I'd love to see Enbarr. The view from the docks isn't very flattering."

"We'll stick to the sky, however. I don't want the people getting a good look at you."

"Keeping me to yourself, Your Majesty?" she teases.

The only response she gets is a kiss on the cheek as Edelgard gets up to fetch her towel. She dries herself off before handing the towel to Dorothea. "It's cold up there, it’s best you dry yourself.”

“Can’t be colder than the ocean,” she says, but pats herself down anyway. 

Meanwhile, Edelgard puts on her riding clothes. Dorothea would need something to protect her from the wind as well. Since she doesn’t bring the cape she gave her before, Edelgard gets her own cape and wraps it around her.

She snuggles into the cape with a giggle. “I wonder how many of these I can get away with?”

“How many do you want?”

“How many do you have?”

“Next time, I’ll get you your own capes,” she chuckles. “Any design preferences?”

She pouts. “It’s not the same if it wasn’t yours to begin with.”

“Who’s needy now?” she says as she scoops her up in her arms. 

Dorothea drapes her arms around her neck and presses her mouth softly against hers. Edelgard holds her closer in response, then the siren pulls back. She leans in to follow but Dorothea stops her with a finger to her lips. “You are,” she says, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

Edelgard blinks, trying to remember the question. She bumps her head grumpily against her when she does. “You win this round.”

“Why, Edie, I wasn’t aware this was a competition,” Dorothea exclaims, batting her eyelashes. 

She huffs as she carries her over to Nike, Dorothea giggling into her ear. She sits in the saddle behind the siren, one arm looped around her, the other holding the reins. 

“Hold on tight,” Edelgard says rather unnecessarily as Dorothea is essentially wrapped around her. She’s angled to the side so her tail curls around her and her arms are snug around her shoulders.

Nike bounds along the shore before launching into the sky, spiraling higher and higher with each flap of his mighty wings. Dorothea laughs in exhilaration as the wind rushes past them and Edelgard can’t help but join her. She loves flying. The wind against her face, the weightless feeling of freedom, the spectacular scenery. That she gets to share it with Dorothea makes it all the more special, she thinks as they rise past the cliffs and set their course for Enbarr.

The countryside sprawls beneath them in a vast expanse of rolling hills and rugged mountains. “Look,” Edelgard whispers, taking in the view.

“Oh,  _ oh _ ,” Dorothea pales as she clings tighter to her. “Goddess, we’re so high up.”

Edelgard rubs comforting circles on her back. “I won’t let you fall, don’t worry.”

“I know you won’t but-” she cuts off with a yelp as a stray updraft rocks them. “I don’t like that. I  _ do not _ like that at all!”

“We can turn back if you want,” Edelgard offers, trying not to let her disappointment show. Why must her closest friends be acrophobic?

Dorothea shakes her head. “No, I got this. I’ll just… not look down.”

“That defeats the purpose of showing you the view,” she points out.

“I just need to get the hang of this,” she says stubbornly, “this is my first time flying, afterall. A little jitters is normal, right?”

“If you say so.” 

They glide over to Enbarr as smoothly as possible, Edelgard and Nike are familiar enough with the route that they can pick out the steadiest air currents. Dorothea spends most of the journey with her head buried in the crook of her lover’s neck, but would occasionally peek over her shoulder to look around.

Soon, the gleaming city of Enbarr comes into view. “We’re here,” she says to Dorothea.

“Mm hmm,” she hums distractedly, though she does pull slightly away from Edelgard to better take in the capital of the Empire. 

It’s a little past noon and the streets are bustling with activity. Merchants, citizens, and every other kind of folk go about their days, small as ants from their vantage point on wyvernback. Dorothea’s fins twitch as they pass the ostentatious dome of the Mittelfrank Opera.

“Do I hear singing?” she asks with wonder.

Edelgard can’t hear anything over the wind, but she does recognize the building. “Most likely. That over there is the opera house. I haven’t had many opportunities to go, but the shows I’ve seen were incredible.”

“More incredible than me?” 

“Not possible," she says, nuzzling her hair.

They continue to meander around the capital, steering clear of sky patrols who thankfully don't give them a second glance. Ever cautious, Edelgard tucks her cape carefully around Dorothea to hide her figure anyway. 

"Even if they can't tell I'm a siren," Dorothea snickers, "I can imagine gossip will still spread. 'Emperor Edelgard seen with mysterious stranger on romantic flight!' All of Adrestia will be raving about it by next week."

She scoffs, "at the very least, it might discourage suitors."

"You get suitors?"

"Not many. I wasn't the most approachable of bachelorettes even when I was still just a princess. I've made it clear I'm not interested in marriage or securing heirs but there are still those who are," she pauses, "bold, so to speak."

"I would  _ pay _ to see you turn them down." She sounds smug.

"It's not very entertaining, I'm afraid." Edelgard chuckles dryly, "They offer their proposals, I refuse. Hardly worth your gold."

Dorothea’s laugh tapers off with a strained grimace. An expression Edelgard has seen on her aide numerous times before. "We could land somewhere, if you wish."

She nods, "yes please."

Edelgard couldn't think of a location more private than the palace, so that's where they go. She guides Nike over to the residential wing. Without guests to entertain at the moment, there shouldn't be anyone there aside from her friends and attendants. They land in a courtyard, lined with plots of flowers and stone benches, with a marble fountain at the center.

"So this is where you live," Dorothea quips despite her pallor.

"I'd give you the grand tour if you didn't look like you'd throw up on the carpet." Edelgard carries her, with one arm supporting her shoulders and the other supporting her tail, and sets her down on the rim of the fountain.

She turns around so her tail can swish in the water. "I’m sorry, but I don't think flying is for me," she grumbles.

"It can't be helped." Edelgard massages her shoulders, hoping to make her feel better. It seems to work. Dorothea leans back into her touch with a contented hum. The cape is draped loosely around her such that it slipped past her shoulders, so Edelgard’s gloves are in contact with bare skin.

“You looked like you were having so much fun though,” she notes softly. 

“I don’t like enclosed spaces very much, they bring bad memories,” she begins, wondering how much she wanted to tell Dorothea. “When it gets overwhelming, I find myself seeking the outdoors. Flying is the pinnacle of that escapism, I suppose. When I’m in the sky with the wind in my face, I feel as if nothing can hold me down ever again.”

Dorothea tilts her head back so she can smile up at her. “While I appreciate its personal significance for you, I’m afraid my stomach can’t.”

She leans down to press her lips briefly against her forehead, “meeting up with you has given me more opportunities to fly so it evens out.”

Footsteps on the cobblestones makes Edelgard instinctively try to cover Dorothea, tugging her cape firmly around her lover, but she relaxes slightly as she recognizes the gait. The hurriedness to it keeps her guard up, however.

“Hubert,” she turns to greet him, “is something the matter?”

He smiles at her through clenched teeth, “Your Majesty, I advise that you leave. Now.”

Dorothea groans, shooting Nike an apprehensive look. “Five more minutes? I’m not ready to fly yet.”

Hubert winces, air sickness was something he understood well, but urgency trumps sympathy. “There’s no time to waste. You must-”

“So this is who has been monopolising my darling niece’s time.”

The voice somehow chills and boils her blood at the same time. Edelgard immediately steps between Arundel and Dorothea. 

It’s too late, as he’d already seen her, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he gets a good look at the siren. “Oh my.”

“Lord Arundel,” she speaks, voice gratifyingly measured, “what a surprise. I did not expect to see you here.”

He nods, gaze wandering behind her but she casually shifts her stance to block it. “There were some things I wished to discuss with you, though there are more interesting things we could be catching up about. Do tell me about this new friend of yours.”

Dorothea grins, more a show of teeth than a genuine smile. She senses the tension in the air and chooses to keep silent. 

Edelgard had to get her away. Fast.

“I’d love to chat with you, uncle, but I’m afraid we really must be going now. She shouldn’t be out of the ocean for too long and it was horribly reckless of me to bring her here from the start.” She briskly scoops up Dorothea and mounts her wyvern.

Arundel steps towards them, “surely you can spare a few minutes-”

“It would be unwise to keep them for any longer,” Hubert deftly intervenes, “her health is on the line.”

Edelgard doesn’t wait to make sure he’s convinced. With a flick of the reins, Nike takes off with a powerful beat of wings. 

As much as she wanted to fly back to the beach as fast as they could, Dorothea didn’t seem up for it. “Edie,” she whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut as she gripped at her jacket. 

“Just hold on,” she murmurs. She urges Nike higher until they’re above the clouds. Hopefully out of sight from anyone trying to follow them. 

The slower pace does nothing for her nerves, but at least Dorothea could relax a little. “So,” she says warily, “that was your uncle.”

It was a statement rather than a question, but Edelgard explains anyway. “No. My uncle is long dead, that monster just wears his face.”

“I- ” she shakes her head, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighs heavily, guilt and fear squeezing at her heart. “I never should’ve let him see you- or even know about you! He’s a dangerous man. I never should’ve brought you to Enbarr…”

“Edie,” Dorothea chastises, “regrets aren’t going to help us now. Tell me what’s going on.”

She takes a deep breath. “You’re right. Where to begin,” she trails off. 

Dorothea lets her gather her thoughts, closing her eyes. Her breathing is shallow but her gills pulse visibly at her neck. Her nausea is still getting to her, yet she is markedly more composed about the situation than Edelgard. Goddess, she is pathetic.

“His real name is Thales,” she starts and Dorothea’s eyes immediately open, focusing on her. She forges on, “he’s the leader of a sinister organization, one responsible for so many atrocities across Fódlan. We call them Those Who Slither in the Dark.”

She scoffs, “what kind of a name is that? Not a very inspired one.”

“Excuse me?” Edelgard says defensively, “I happen to think it’s rather fitting.”

Her jaw drops, “oh no, don’t tell me. You came up with the name, didn’t you?”

“For the record, Hubert did, but I quite like it.”

Dorothea covers her face with her hands, making a noise between a groan and a laugh. “You’re both such losers.”

Edelgard scowls, not hiding her resentment at the notion. They descend from the clouds towards familiar cliffs and a sandy shore. Nike lands lightly on the sand. She wastes no time in carrying Dorothea over to the water.

“That aside,” she says, setting her down, “they are a dangerous group. I’ve worked with them for a while before the war, I’ve seen what they do. The peace we’ve worked so hard for would be for naught if they’re left unchecked.”

“You worked with them?” Dorothea frowns, “If your uncle- or Thales, whatever- is the leader, why not kill him on the spot? He’s right there.”

She winces at the first question, “My situation was complicated, to say the least. Thales might be the head, but there’s more of them and they wouldn’t be rendered so helpless. If we act too rashly, they’ll only retreat into the shadows. We’ll lose our chance to end them once and for all.”

“Although,” Edelgard lowers her voice, leaning close, “we’ve been scouting their stronghold. The final battle is almost at hand.”

Dorothea stares up at her, eyes burning with determination. “Alright. How can I help?”

“Help?”

“You didn’t expect me to just sit here while you fight terrorists on your own?” she huffs. “Besides, like you said, they’ve already seen me. Might as well show them what I can really do.”

She shakes her head. “Dorothea, I’m sorry to say, but the best ‘help’ you can do for me is to hide. Perhaps in Brigid. I’ll find you again once the threat has passed.”

Dorothea looks so offended that she’s almost speechless. “What?” she splutters indignantly, “you want me to  _ leave _ you?”

The withering look she gives her is heartbreaking, but Edelgard remains stubborn. “It’s for your own safety! There’s no telling what Thales would do to you if he gets his hands on you- ” She didn’t want to entertain the thought, but the possibility was too real, too terrifying. If Those Who Slither could conduct such gruesome experiments on humans, what worse can they do to a siren…

Dorothea rolls her eyes, having none of it. “I’m touched by your concern, really, but I worry about you too, you know. I’m not just going to run away when you’re- ”

A roar interrupts them.

Edelgard whirls around in alarm to see Nike snarling at a hooded figure. Shadows coalesce in the dark mage's hands and shoot towards her wyvern. Nike narrowly avoids the spell, then takes off to dodge another, roaring in defiance.

"Dorothea, run!" she commands, not taking her eyes off the mage as more warp onto the beach. She whistles sharply to call her mount, but a barrage of spells drives Nike away. There's a tomahawk strapped to his saddle that she kept for emergencies, Edelgard recalls irritably as she drops to the sand to dodge a bolt of fire. She'll have to defeat these mages without it.

No matter. She's unarmed, but not defenseless. A tingle shoots down her arms and to her fingertips as she mutters incantations under her breath. She steps aside as miasma is hurled at her and she ripostes with an explosive ball of flame.

The mage is knocked off his feet, but his allies are quick to take his place and retaliate. Dark magic clips Edelgard's shoulder, making her stagger. The searing pain is easily drowned out by adrenaline. There weren't more enemies arriving to join the fight, but she was already severely outnumbered, about a dozen to one. She'll need her strongest spells if she expects to secure a victory.

Hubert had warned her about the dangers of dark magic. It had the tendencies to addict, to corrupt, to degrade. Superstitious elders would even say a certain blackness of heart was required to cast such dreadful magic. Edelgard's heart was burnt black long ago.

She mutters a different incantation and the tingling escalates to an electric charge as she strikes down an enemy with a malicious blast, her twin Crests buzzing in reaction. 

Another enemy down, and so much more to go. One of them yells at the others, rallying them to attack in formation. She'll have to take him out. She starts another incantation when the words suddenly die in her throat. She tries again but no sound comes out.

Silenced! Edelgard spits a wordless curse. She ducks as another volley of spells come at her.

Emboldened by her helplessness, the mages advance. Edelgard lifts her chin, daring them to come closer. She'll beat them with her fists if they do.

"Edie!"

A spear of lighting arcs from somewhere behind her, piercing through the lead mage and scattering their forces.

_ "I told you to get away!" _ is what Edelgard would've said could she speak, but nothing comes out of her mouth as she moves it. She spares a glance at Dorothea, keeping the dark mages in her periphery.

The siren is frightfully close to the shore. "Get in the water!" she yells.

A flash in the corner of her vision warns her of an impending fireball and she returns her attention to the battle. She sidesteps to avoid it, but she's unable to dodge as another one hits her in the stomach.

_ "Edie!" _

The blow sends her stumbling into the surf, almost losing her footing in the shallow water. 

"We've got her!" one of the dark mages cries, motioning for the others to follow. She wonders if they intend to capture her rather than kill her. Edelgard would rather die than be back in their clutches.

Before the mages could get any closer, someone grabs her by the back of her jacket and drags her into the water. The water couldn't be more than a couple of feet deep, but Dorothea forces her head under and their mouths smash together in a desperate kiss. 

Dorothea then pulls her further to the depths, evading spells that pierce the surface above them. They don't stop until they're far out of range. 

"Edie, are you alright?" she lays her down inside a large crevice. The hiding place is a little unnecessary, considering they have no means of following them underwater, but it was oddly comforting.

Her voice has yet to return, so she just nods.

"I don't think so." The humor in her tone is strained. Dorothea inspects her wounds, hands aglow with white magic. 

The burn on her stomach is the worst of her injuries and the salt only intensifies the pain. She sighs as Dorothea presses her hand against it, sliding it under her clothes to meet bare skin, the flesh mending at her touch. 

She tugs at Edelgard's sleeve, which was torn at the shoulder, revealing blotchy purple flesh beneath it. She helps her slip out of her jacket and rolls up her shirt sleeve so she can heal the wound there. 

"So," she begins, "those guys were the ones who slither in the dark?"

Edelgard nods again.

As Dorothea finishes healing her, she manages to say, "thank you."

Her voice is raspy, but it's there. She clears her throat and tries once more. "You saved my life yet again."

"I can't help it if you make a habit of almost dying," she sniffs. "Were they the ones who attacked you back then, too? When we first met?"

"I believe so."

"And you still expect me to leave you after seeing all this?" she asks, almost demands, giving her a hard look. "If I left when you told me to, you would've died then and there. And I'll be stuck in Brigid, waiting and waiting, never knowing what happened."

"You're right," the truth is bitter on her tongue, but Edelgard can't deny it, "and I'm grateful you were still there. But I can't in good conscience involve you in this further than you already are."

"And I can't in good conscience leave you to fight them alone," she retorts.

"I won't be alone, I'll have the Strikeforce with me," she assures her. "We'll be careful. I  _ will _ come back to you, I promise."

Dorothea looks at her wearily. "How will you get back to them?"

She frowns, considering her options. Even if the mages decided to withdraw instead of waiting them out or leaving a trap, there was no guarantee Nike would be there to bring her home, if he was even still alive. Edelgard would have to surface somewhere she can make it back to the palace on her own. The docks aren't very appealing. The canals only slightly more so if she can get closer to the palace without attracting much attention. 

"I'll be able to make it back through Enbarr," she explains her plan and Dorothea grimaces at the mention of canals. "I'd hate to ask this of you but could you take me there? You'd have to go right after. Don't let anyone else spot you."

She folds her arms. "You'd hate to ask for more of my help or you'd hate to ask me to leave?"

Both, if she were to be honest. Edelgard doesn't tell her that, looking down in shame.

Dorothea runs an aggravated hand through her hair. "The things I do for you…" she mutters under her breath. "Let's get going then, shall we?"

"Wait."

Dorothea had moved to take her under the arms, as she does when she carries her around in the sea, but Edelgard grabs her wrist before she does. She winces at her own actions, shifting her hold so they're holding hands instead. Palm to palm, fingers intertwined such that hers press against the webbing between Dorothea's.

None of this was fair for Dorothea. This  _ entire _ situation wasn’t fair for her. Edelgard recalls the conversation they had on the beach earlier that day, just before it all went wrong. Of the answer she couldn’t give her and all the things she has to say.

Taking a deep breath, she looks into her eyes. “I  _ do _ want to spend the rest of my life with you, but you deserve so much better than that.”

“Now? You’re telling me this now?” Dorothea is incredulous, “shouldn’t  _ I _ be the judge for what I do and don’t deserve-”

Edelgard cuts her off. “I’m not long for this world.” Dorothea shuts up at that, eyes widening as she processes her words. She continues, “the rest of my life could merely be the next ten years of yours. Maybe even less, I don’t know.”

“You’re dying?” Her voice is small. “From what?”

“I have two Crests, it’s not natural. It’s made me stronger but it’s also eating me alive. It’s only a matter of time before I’m burnt out,” she casts a resentful gaze in the general direction of the shore, “I vowed to take them down before that happens.”

Dorothea follows her gaze, connecting the dots. “They did this to you?”

She nods. “Blood reconstruction surgery, when I was a child…” Edelgard ends up telling her more than she intended. She didn’t go through every grisly detail of course, Dorothea doesn’t need to hear all that, but like a breached dam, once she opens up, she finds she can’t stop. She tells her about her siblings, her nightmares, every horrid thing that could be traced back to the wicked beings who worked in the shadows, and every horrid thing she had to do because of them.

Somewhere along the way, Dorothea’s hands trailed up from hers, tracing the winding scars up her arms. Before she knows it, she’s wrapped up in a tight embrace and sobbing into her chest. “That’s why,” Edelgard says, struggling to reclaim her composure, “you have to leave. I refuse to let them take another loved one. That’s also why,” her breath hitches, “you deserve worlds better than anything I can offer you.”

Dorothea doesn’t respond immediately. She sings softly, still holding her close. The melody is gentle, soothing, and Edelgard’s pulse slows, the tension seeping from her limbs to be washed away by the tides.  _ This is cheating _ , she thinks idly. 

“Don’t you think,” Dorothea murmurs, “I’m the best judge for what I deserve?”

“How could you want this?” 

“I don’t like that you’re dying or fighting a terrorist cult, but I want  _ you _ , Edelgard.” The way she says her name is light as a whisper yet heavy with promise. “If that’s what a life with you entails, then I’ll take what comes. And if ten years is how long it lasts, then it’ll be the happiest ten years of our lives!”

“You…” Edelgard blinks at her like she’s too brilliant to behold. “Truly?”

“Truly,” she confirms, pressing her lips against her forehead. “If we’re being honest, I never expected things would happen like they did. I didn’t think I’d see you again after I saved you, didn’t think you’d actually agree to meet with me after that, didn’t think we’d end up dating either. Yet here we are,” she looks at her, green eyes shining. “So please stop pushing me away.”

Edelgard is glad to be underwater, her tears would be obvious otherwise. 

“I’d keep you by my side if I could,” she says, a hysterical laugh bubbling within her, “but, Dorothea, Those Who Slither are based on  _ land _ .”

The siren scowls, clearly upset that they’d be thwarted by such a trivial hurdle. “Can’t I ride behind you on your wyvern or something? If I vomit, I’ll aim it at the enemy.”

“That’s disgusting,” Edelgard tells her, though she feels lighter than she was since Thales saw them. 

“It’s called being resourceful. Besides, weren’t you willing to swim up sewers earlier?” 

Their laugh is cut short when Dorothea suddenly sits up, back straight and fins quivering. “Something’s making a ruckus in the water,” she warns, “something big.”

Just like that, the mood is somber once more, reality setting in. They’ve dawdled too long. What did they send after them, demonic beasts? Automatons? “We have to get out of here,” Edelgard says.

Dorothea nods, peeking out of the crevice. “It’s sticking to the surface, and it’s still some ways off. We should be able to slip past if… wait a minute.”

“What is it?” Edelgard looks out and sees a large mass churning the water above. The creature is silhouetted at the surface and kicking up a storm of bubbles, but she manages to make out a reptilian shape with large paddles- no, wings. “Nike?”

“Look who’s alive!” Dorothea cheers, pulling Edelgard towards her mount.

Nike had his head underwater. When he sees them, he turns his body gracelessly around, limbs floundering as he barks out bubbles. 

Edelgard hugs his snout affectionately before pulling herself up the saddle. She grips the straps firmly so she doesn’t slip off even as she coughs her lungs out. Despite the violent hacking, she registers that there’s someone already on the saddle and pulling her up.

“Easy does it,” they say, wrapping their overcoat around her, “I’ve got you.”

“My teacher?” she gasps between mouthfuls of seawater.

Byleth grins at her, relief written plainly on their face. “You had us worried back there. And you,” they turn to Dorothea, “you alright?”

“Yup. Edie got a little singed, but she’s alright now.”

“We knew there would be trouble after that thing with Arundel,” Byleth explains, “but we didn’t realize how immediate until Nike came back to the palace alone and injured. We came here as quickly as we could.”

They steer Nike towards the shore, he couldn’t take off from the water so he swims instead, Dorothea tagging along. Edelgard sees their friends on the beach. She spots Hubert’s dark robed figure pacing back and forth on the sand, Ferdinand trailing behind him, bright hair and bright clothes a stark contrast. They’re quite the sight, a walking shadow followed by a ray of sunshine. Bernadetta is also there, with a couple of pegasi that they used to fly here. Hubert stops pacing when he notices them, the three of them rushing towards the waterline.

Hubert helps her down before immediately stepping back and bowing to his waist. “Apologies, Your Majesty, I never should’ve allowed Arundel to have gotten anywhere near you.”

“It was nothing but rotten luck,” Ferdinand says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He arrived rather unexpectedly looking for you, Edelgard. We were so smug in telling him you were out for the day and were not expected to return anytime soon. He had only just taken his leave when you suddenly showed up.”

“Hubert was supposed to tell you to leave while Ferdinand and I find Arundel and distract him,” Byleth puts in. “Arguably, he performed better than we did.”

Bernadetta pipes up, wringing her hands, “we got really scared when Nike came back, and when we got here, there were a ton of mages! We dealt with them,” she says with a nervous glance at a pile of bodies to the side that Edelgard just noticed, “but you weren’t here and we thought you got captured or something, but why would they still be here if they got you? So the professor figured you were hiding with Dorothea at sea and they were waiting you out.” She takes a deep breath after that, having forgotten to do so during her spiel. Hubert pats her on the back.

“Thank you all so much,” Edelgard says, “I put us in quite the predicament, but as Ferdinand puts it, it’s just misfortune. There’s no blame to cast.”

“I blame Thales,” Byleth says flatly.

Edelgard rubs her temples. “I guess there’s that.”

“So how shall we proceed?” Hubert asks.

“I still get to do something, right?” Dorothea says, pulling herself partway from the water. There’s a strange mix of defiance and resignation in her tone. She already knows the answer, she just doesn’t want to accept it.

Edelgard kneels to her level. “I’m sorry, but all I ask is that you trust me. Trust me that I’ll come back to you, and that once this is over, come what may,” she takes her hands, “we’ll face it together.”

“Together,” she repeats. “Just don’t keep me waiting for too long. And promise not to die so soon. Come back to me, okay.”

“I promise.” Edelgard pulls her in for a kiss. An oath, an apology. 

A farewell.

They pull back, but they don’t quite let go of each other yet. Edelgard drinks in her appearance, knowing it’ll be all too long before she can see her again. Dorothea’s smile is forlorn, expression tight with melancholy. Her eyes are watery with either tears or seawater. She still has Edelgard’s cape from earlier, clinging to her sodden frame.

Byleth rests their hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, nodding at Dorothea. “We’ll watch her back. Everything will be alright.”

“Of course,” Dorothea says, letting go. “Take care of each other. Goodbye, Edie.”

“I love you,” Edelgard says softly.

Dorothea is visibly taken aback by the words. Then she smiles, both sadder and brighter than before. “I love you, too.”

With that, she retreats into the water. Edelgard stares after her. She surfaces again in the distance, turning back towards the shore. Their eyes meet from all the way across the waves. Neither of them move, frozen to the spot.

Byleth’s grip tightens on her shoulder. She knows if she doesn’t look away now, her resolve could break then and there. Then where would Dorothea be, within the reach of Those Who Slither in the Dark?

Mustering every scrap of her willpower, she turns away from the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh, sisters!! *gets hit by plot*


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thought the tags could use an update :3
> 
> A fairly short chap compared to the last one, but hey- you get little a Thea pov!! As a treat!!!

“This is the first I’ve heard of this development,” Petra says in her native tongue. “Though I suppose the information is too sensitive to be sent overseas.”

Dorothea responds in kind. “Even if she were to send a letter, no missive could get here faster than me.”

It’s hard to believe it had only been mere days since she was at Enbarr. Two and a half, to be specific. The sudden change feels as quick as a blink while at the same time as long as eternity. It happened so fast that Dorothea had woken up wondering if she dreamt the whole thing, but Edelgard’s absence in her life is so poignant and consuming that the days dragged on.

And here she was, floating on her back on the Brigid sea. Petra in the same position.

“Have you encountered them,” Dorothea asks, “Those Who Slither in the Dark?”

Petra nods grimly, or perhaps she’s just bobbing along on the waves. “On multiple occasions, since we were students. Not so much during the war, when Edelgard was able to keep them on a short leash, but her grip slips at times. Once they banished the professor to a realm of darkness, and drove a village mad, and razed an entire city.”

She’s heard these before, but hearing it again does nothing for her nerves. Dorothea lets her body sink into the water until just her head is above the surface. Sensing her despair, Petra clasps her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“Have courage,” she says, “Edelgard has the Strikeforce and the professor with her. They will triumph, I’m sure. She’ll return to you before you know it.”

“Not soon enough,” she bemoans. It isn’t the first time she’s had to wait. Hell, it isn’t even the longest. There was a time when it took over a week before her beloved Emperor could eke out the time to see her. However, the difference was that Edelgard is fighting for her life and not just sitting through boring government meetings. Longing isn’t the only thing weighing her heart, now Dorothea has to contend with anxiety and helplessness.

The pitying look Petra gives her smoothes over to something more thoughtful. “I may not be her general anymore, but I’m still her friend. I could go back to Adrestia under the guise of a diplomatic trip and help her take on Shambhala.” She gives her a wry smile, “and then I won’t have to keep looking at your lovelorn expression.”

“Even at my worst, I’m not bad to look at,” she retorts. Though having Petra watch over Edelgard’s back gave her a measure of comfort. "Just be careful, or I'll end up fretting over you both."

Petra laughs, confidence exuding from every lilt. "You only fret because you haven't seen us in action. The Black Eagle Strikeforce is known for doing the impossible, this is but another battle we'll emerge victorious from." 

At her pensive look, Petra shifts so that she's floating upright, facing her fully. "I know it's difficult to be far from your loved ones in their time of need, but you must have faith in them. Edelgard is cautious as well as capable, and I'm sure she will try even harder knowing she has you to return to. Trust that she will, just as she trusts you to stay safe."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Petra doesn't return to the beach after that, presumably having gone to Adrestia to join the fight, leaving Dorothea alone with her thoughts. Despite their earlier pep talk, they weren't very pleasant thoughts.

She sits alone in her cove, swaddled in Edelgard's cape. She has two now- plus a damaged riding jacket, but even the Emperor's entire wardrobe couldn't possibly replace having the woman herself in her arms. Dorothea pulls the red fabric around herself, inhaling deeply. It just smells of sea salt, unfortunately, the floral scent her lover carried had long since been washed away. 

The jacket does nothing to lift her spirits. The ruined cloth only served as a reminder of the dangers Edelgard could be facing. She runs her fingers along the charred threads and warped buttons, what once was beautiful embroidery reduced to a frayed mess. 

Worry gnaws at her, not just for Edelgard, but now for Petra as well. She doesn't know what she'd do if something were to befall either of them. Worse still, she can't shake the feeling that it'd be her fault. While Edelgard was already in conflict with Those Who Slither even before she met her, Dorothea had definitely been the trigger for that incident at the beach. And were it not for her incessant fretting, Petra would still be safe in Brigid rather than running headlong into another country's war. 

She shakes her head. She's being irrational! But no matter how much she turns logic around in her mind, her feelings refuse to quiet.

Having no one else to turn to, she pours her frustrations out in song. A siren's song is pure emotion turned to melody. Just like a human could fake a smile when they're unhappy, a siren could sing emotions they don't feel. But the most powerful, most enchanting songs always come from the heart.

Dorothea bares her heart out to the sea in an aria of ardent yearning and fearful apprehension. Faint whispers that rise to shouts. Sweeping crescendos that abruptly stop. A haunting melody that gradually descends into an arrhythmic disaster. She sings and sings until the ache in her throat is almost as bad as the one in her chest. 

She stops to catch her breath. Around her, it seems the ocean was doing the same. Schools of fish pause to gather around her, dolphins swam in sedate, sorrowful circles overhead, a couple of sharks drifted by keeping low to the sand. All who heard her song now wallowed with Dorothea in her misery. She remains silent after that, staying still until eventually the sea creatures roused themselves and went about their day. They swim off slowly, like they weren’t quite able to shake the lingering traces of her lament.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Despite her better judgement, Dorothea finds herself swimming back to Enbarr. She doubts she’ll accomplish anything. As far as Edelgard knew, she was back at Brigid, so she wouldn’t be expecting a rendezvous. There was even the possibility that she had already dealt with Those Who Slither and was on her way to Brigid at that very moment, Dorothea realizes as she passes by a ship. A merchant vessel, by the looks of it, flying the black and yellow colors of the Alliance.

Dorothea stares up at the break in the waves at the ship’s wake. She should really be heading back. 

She continues east, towards Adrestia.

What she’s doing is foolish, pointless at best and dangerous at worst, yet she finds it far more preferable than twiddling her thumbs and wallowing in worries. She pointedly ignores the fact that that’s likely what she’ll end up doing once she arrives there. No matter. Once she gets to Enbarr and finds nothing, she’ll simply head back to Brigid. 

The sadness can’t catch up to her if she keeps moving. This is definitely how it works.

Still, she can’t help but fantasize as she nears the beach where she meets with Edelgard. Does her lover miss her just as much, she wonders. Could she focus on the task at hand or does she get distracted by longing? Dorothea can imagine her spacing out in the middle of a meeting, her lilac eyes glazing over and her stern expression melting into a dopey grin despite her generals bickering around her. Then the scene changes and Edelgard spaces out in the middle of a battlefield instead. A dark mage, face hidden under a hood and a wicked mask, creeps behind her with a spell at the ready. The young Emperor doesn’t see it coming, head lost somewhere between the surface and the seabed-

Dorothea doesn’t finish the thought, feeling as nauseous as when she’d first flown over the capital. That wouldn’t happen. Edelgard had Petra, and Byleth, and all her other friends watching out for her, each capable soldiers in their own right.

She arrives at the inlet and breaks the surface there. The distant stars and the half moon don’t provide much in the way of illumination, but to Dorothea’s eyes, adapted to the depths, it’s enough to take in the sight of the beach. Her breath catches in her throat.

There, seated by the shore, is a lone figure cloaked in red. A wyvern crouched further up the sand.

Had Edelgard been just as restless and lonely as she was, to go all the way over to their personal beach to yearn softly by the sea.  _ “Edie,” _ she thinks so fondly it hurts,  _ “you pining disaster.” _

She giddily pictures how the events will play out. Edelgard would be staring at the waves, lost in thought, then Dorothea would swim up to view. The Emperor would be flabbergasted. She’d gape at her and after she collects herself would scold her harshly for her recklessness. Dorothea would then pull her into a kiss, and she’ll melt against her, and all will be right in the world once more.

She sinks back under the water to get closer without being spotted, hoping to surprise her lover. She pokes her head partway through the surface, watching her.

Edelgard looks out to the sea with a furrowed brow, mouth slanted in a frown, eyes flitting back and forth. While Dorothea recognizes the cape, the rest of her outfit was new to her. Instead of her usual riding clothes, she had on a crimson dress. Her hair was twirled into tight buns, held in place by a golden headdress in the shape of horns. This must be her regalia, Dorothea realizes, this is the Emperor the court of Fódlan sees.

Something twists in her gut. She doesn’t know why, but something about it feels off to her. 

She glances at the wyvern, sitting primly on the sand with its head raised. Poised, alert. A far cry from Nike’s laid back demeanor.

She looks back at Edelgard and her heart skips a beat when their eyes meet. She freezes while the Emperor grins like she’d been expecting her. 

A memory returns to her unbidden, of Edelgard’s voice, bitter and tired when she spoke,  _ “my uncle is long dead, that monster just wears his face.” _

_ “It’s a trap.”  _ Dread and shame heavy like lead in her chest as she edges away from the shore.  _ “It’s a trap and I fell for it.” _

“Dorothea,” the figure in red calls. It sounds just like Edelgard, but her trust in the situation was already broken beyond repair.

The siren dives underwater and swims off in a hurry.

She resolves to return to Brigid and wait there like she should’ve been doing from the start. Those Who Slither proves to be more than willing to use her against Edelgard.

Dorothea doesn't make it out of the bay before a pillar of light flashes in her path. Displaced water rolls in waves as something large and mechanical materializes in the water. She stares in stunned silence as the hulking monstrosity, shaped vaguely like a human, lumbers before her. It extends a great hand to grab her and she comes to her senses just in time to dart away. 

The giant machine blocks her way to the open ocean and she gives it a wide berth, looking for an opening to slip through. Her fins prick, sensing a plethora of vibrations entering the water. She gives a quick glance around and bites back a curse as boats appear in the bay, dragging nets between them.

Dorothea is mildly flattered by the effort they put in trying to capture her. More than that though, she's terrified.

A strange whirring sound drags her attention back to the mechanical giant. It rears back its hand, a spear in its grasp, and aims it at her.

She dodges as it pierces through the water at impossible speeds. The motion brings her up against one of the nets and she yelps as she's suddenly hoisted out of the water.

"We got a big one," chortles one of her captors, garbed in the same dark robe and bird-like mask that seemed to be the uniform of Those Who Slither in the Dark. She decides that they were entirely deserving of the lame name Hubert had dubbed them.

She struggles as they try to haul her onto the boat. They will  _ not _ have her! 

A siren's voice was their most powerful weapon, for a sorceress like Dorothea, doubly so. Her songs could captivate the hardest of hearts, her spells could command fire and lightning. But when she opens her mouth, she lets out neither melody nor incantation.

Dorothea screams.

An earsplitting shriek that drives fear and panic like a lance into the hearts of all who hear it. They drop the net immediately, crying out and covering their ears in vain. Dorothea falls back into the water and wriggles out of the net, dashing for the ocean beyond.

Unfortunately, the mechanical giant has neither ears nor heart, and it grabs her by the tail before she could swim past. She thrusts her hand towards its head and snarls out a spell, sending a jagged bolt of lightning right through it. There's a hiss and a pop, then the giant stiffens, seeming to lock in place. She tries to squirm out of its grip but it remains tight around her. Dorothea casts another spell, trying to melt the metallic- was this thing even metal?- fingers off of her. Bubbles froth from around her palms as she summons fire magic underwater.

She manages to melt through the grip and slip out. She finds herself face to face with yet another net. "Persistent, are you," she scoffs. No matter, she can fend them off.

Taking a deep breath, she opens her mouth to release another crippling cry.

No sound comes out.

She tries again and again as the nets close around her.

Her voice! They stole her voice!

When they haul her up, Dorothea spits and claws and snaps with everything she has, but without her voice, she couldn't hope to stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record, Edie would TOTALLY go to the beach to Yearn^tm. Fortunately for her (or unfortunately for Thea rip), she has 8 brain cells more formally known as the Black Eagle Strikeforce to keep her impulses in check


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, have this chap fresh off the google dox at 2am

Politics wait for no one, even when underground cults have just attempted to kill you. Or so Edelgard thinks wryly as she gathers her notes from a meeting that had just adjourned minutes ago. 

As the last of the ministers file out of the room, Byleth stretches with an exaggerated yawn before promptly dropping their forehead unto the table.

"Are you still alive, my teacher?" 

They put a finger to their wrist, checking for a pulse. "It appears so."

"How fortunate," she chuckles. 

For all of Byleth's proficiency on the battlefield and in the classroom, they had little acuity when it came to this kind of government work. Four hours into the meeting and they'd stop paying attention to what was being said and settle for glaring ornery nobles into submission. 

"It's no wonder Hubert didn't like you before," she tells them, "keep this up and you'll be taking his job soon."

Byleth shakes their head. "Alas, he looms far better than I. He's taller."

As Edelgard goes over her notes, her gaze drifts over a name scribbled over a list of territories in need of new management. Arundel. Her mood sours instantly.

She remembers when they just returned from the ill fated encounter over a week ago. Thales had the gall to wait for them at the palace, expression drawn in false apprehension.

  
  


"I'm glad you've returned unharmed," he said with Arundel's face and voice, "I offered to send my men out to assist you, but your generals left in such a hurry I hadn't the time to rally my forces."

"Time was of the essence, Lord Arundel." Hubert's voice had been a lake of venom, frozen over by the thinnest layer of propriety. "Though your concern is… appreciated."

Byleth stepped forward, a warning hand on the hilt of their sword. "Had you sent your men, we would've taken care of them as well."

Thales narrowed his eyes at them. "Taken care of them?"

They smiled with the sweetness of belladonna. "Just as you would Edelgard."

"Of course," he replied coolly.

Behind Edelgard, Bernadetta shifted nervously from foot to foot. The air was nearly electric with tension.

Ferdinand cleared his throat, "well, this day had been most hectic. I believe we ought to retire for now so we can resume our duties tomorrow. I know you wished to discuss something, Lord Arundel, but surely you would allow Her Majesty a moment's respite for what she has been through."

Thales nodded with false sympathy. "That reminds me, how was your siren friend? She was rather ill from being out of the water, correct? I do hope the attack didn't aggravate her condition."

  
  


Edelgard had wanted to strike him then and there. However, killing Thales alone would not end the threat of Those Who Slither in the Dark, so she stayed her blade. She'd taken years to plot the liberation of Fódlan, and more to put it into action. She can wait a little longer. But she  _ will _ stamp them out before the month ends, she swears it.

She thumbs at the papers. The meetings serve another purpose aside from being the daily regimen of Imperial rule. The facade of normalcy should keep her enemies from raising their suspicions, meanwhile she slowly positioned her forces over to their stronghold in Hrym. 

Edelgard had been steadily sneaking troops over to that territory along with the subsidies she'd been sending there after the war. Likewise, Lysithea returned to her home in Ordelia, taking an entourage of Imperial soldiers with her that she'll add to her own forces when the time of assault comes. Finally, the Strikeforce carefully gathered more soldiers from the Imperial army, handpicking a few of the best from all over Adrestia. This last part surely garnered the attention of Those Who Slither, and deliberately so. A lack of action is just as suspicious as sudden action. Every risk taken, every piece moved on the proverbial chessboard, Edelgard had painstakingly calculated and accounted for.

It reminds her of her own coup against the Church at the end of their academy days. The comparison is troubling. Thales was the one who taught her these tactics, afterall. If she's not clever about this, he'll know exactly how to turn the tables on her.

"Perhaps we should go over our next move while we're here, Professor?"

Byleth thumps their head against the table once more. "If I have to look at another paper before sunrise, it'll be too soon."

She glances at the windows, through which she can see the night sky. "I suppose it is getting late."

"Very late," Byleth agrees, getting up. "I'm going to sleep and you should too." They snatch the notes from her hands and kick at the legs off her chair to prompt her to move. "I know you're tired."

"Alright already," she relents. She smirks at the papers. "Careful not to look at those."

They tuck it under their arm with a roll of their eyes. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The two of them walk back to their quarters in companionable silence, interspersed with light conversation. Rather than taking over her father's chambers, Edelgard had opted to stay in her old room. The rooms that used to belong to her late siblings, that until then remained locked and untouched, were converted into guest rooms especially for her Strikeforce after the war. It's only fitting, she thinks, that her new family fills in the void her old one left. There's still an ache in her chest, but there's also a balm to soothe it now, bittersweet and healing.

"Have a goodnight, El," Byleth bids as they enter their room, just across her own. 

"Goodnight, my teacher." 

When Edelgard enters her room, she strides over to her desk where yet more sheets of paper await her. Their contents, however, are far from documents or battle plans. She rests her elbows on the table and gazes longingly at a pencil sketch of a siren, lounging on a rock and brushing her hair with a comb-like shell. 

It was the first time she'd properly seen Dorothea after she rescued her from the shipwreck. Edelgard remembered her skepticism of her at first, and oh what a fool she was! For she hadn't realized it at the time, but she had been looking at the love of her life.

The other papers were filled with similar drawings, Dorothea smiling, Dorothea swaddled in her cape, Dorothea with her mouth open in song. More than a few sketches were drawn behind notes of varying importance. Some of the papers Byleth had taken with them had such doodles in the margins or at the back, and Edelgard takes shallow comfort in the fact that they likely wouldn't be looking through them.

"Just a little longer, dearest," she whispers as she darkens the shading in the first sketch. The bolder shadows make the figure more striking, but it couldn't possibly hold a candle to the woman it's supposed to depict. Perhaps she should translate the sketch into oil on canvas? Monotone graphite could never do her lover justice and she did like the overall composition of the drawing.

Nonetheless, painting requires time she doesn't have the luxury to afford. It has no contribution to their attack on Shambhala, and therefore would not at all bring her any closer to Dorothea. 

Her pencil continues to wander along with her thoughts.

Everything Edelgard had ever done had been for the future. For the future of Fódlan where people could live unburdened by the weight of their blood, a future where all were born in equal dignity and opportunity. A future she didn't think she'll live very long in, and so a future that ultimately wasn't for herself.

"The happiest ten years of our lives, was it?" She adds a loose background behind the sketch.

To look forward to her own future is a strange new feeling. It fills her with so much hope and alacrity it almost hurts, like her heart wasn't built to hold so much passion that it could burst. But their love isn't nearly so fragile, Dorothea promised as much. She can't help the ridiculous grin that spreads across her face. When they're reunited, Edelgard would give her a proper proposal, with all the poetry and romance that she deserves. 

Can she even propose with a ring? She's never seen Dorothea wear one and it likely wouldn't be too comfortable for her webbed hands. Maybe an earring? Edelgard gets up from her desk to rifle through her jewelry box again. If she can find her parents' engagement rings, perhaps she could take a page from the professor's book and propose with that. 

A knock on the door. "Your Majesty?" One of the servants by the sound of it. What could they want at this hour?

At least Edelgard is still dressed. She schools her expression into practiced neutrality as she opens the door. "Yes?"

The servant offers her a bow and an envelope sealed with red wax. "A letter, Your Majesty, from Lord Arundel."

"Ah, thank you." Her voice and countenance remain even despite the flame of ire that ignites in her chest.

She dismisses them with a nod before glaring at the letter in the privacy of her quarters. Upon closer inspection, the seal on the envelope isn't red but colorless, the bloody hue coming from something the wax was pressed over.

Her heart skips a beat.

She scrambles over to her desk, pulling the drawer out and rummaging for a letter opener. Carefully, she pries the seal off without breaking it. 

There, behind the wax, is the unmistakable maroon scale of a siren.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Anything in the letter?" Byleth asks.

Edelgard smooths out the paper as best she can before handing it to her teacher. A lost cause considering it had been crumpled in her fist just moments before. "Nothing of import. Unless you count vague demands, he doesn't even acknowledge the threat."

Byleth scowls at the letter like it's the most atrocious test they've ever had the displeasure of grading. The letter contains a financial report for Arundel territory, the concluding paragraph a promise of cooperation to the new reforms in exchange for certain privileges.

After Edelgard had read the letter- once, thrice, she wasted no time in rousing her generals for an emergency meeting in her room. Her generals who were present, at least. Lysithea is home in Ordelia while Caspar and Ferdinand had gone to Bergliez.

Petra paces agitated circles on her carpet. "I was just speaking with Dorothea before I had arrival here. They could not be having her for long."

"How are we even sure they have her," Bernadetta squeaks, sitting on her bed and clutching her teddy bear. "What if they just picked up the scale from somewhere? It could even be just a fish scale!"

Edelgard shakes her head. She had yet to let go of the scale, though she did allow them to inspect it. "It's unmistakably a siren's." Not that she's an expert, but the size and luster simply couldn't belong to a plain fish. Besides, she's stared at Dorothea's mesmerizing scales enough times to recognize it anywhere. "These don't shed either. That they have this means they've at least harmed her, if not captured her."

Linhardt leans forward, remarkably alert considering Edelgard had all but barged into his room and lugged him out before he was fully awake. "If they actually have her, then shouldn't they be making more explicit threats? Such an easy to miss, not to mention incredibly vague, message isn't the best way to let your opponents know you have a hostage."

"This is all part of their mind games," Hubert sneers. "If they wanted a sound victory, or even a negotiation, they would be forthright. No, they want to draw out our suffering. Let us fester in fear while they laugh in the shadows."

Byleth perks up. "This could also mean they don't know we know of Shambhala. Without the means to storm their hideout and rescue Dorothea yourself, your only choice will be to approach Thales if you want her back."

"He'd have me crawling to him and begging for her life," Edelgard scoffs, revulsion and despair roiling within her. "Not that negotiation will at all be possible from such a position of weakness."

"Alternatively," Linhardt counters, "they  _ know _ we know of their hideout, and this is the very obvious bait to have us charging right into their trap.

She ponders over their options. None of them favorable, but she's used to having the odds stacked against her. More importantly, she's used to being dealt a bad hand and  _ winning _ regardless. 

"We'll proceed, but with major changes to the plan. Have our moles let slip that we invade their stronghold in one week's time."

Petra eyes her warily, "but in actuality?"

Edelgard returns the look with fierce determination. "We attack tomorrow."

She's met with silence. Bernadetta glances at the timepiece on the table, noting it was well past midnight. "Like, tomorrow-tomorrow, or today-tomorrow?"

"As soon as we are able." She'll have to recall Ferdinand and Caspar immediately. 

"El," Byleth's voice is stern, "I know you're upset, but don't let that cloud your judgement. Our forces aren’t gathered yet. We can’t save her with inadequate preparations.”

“Every minute that passes is more time for those dastards to  _ do _ something to her!” she snaps. Her teacher frowns at the outburst. Edelgard reins in her temper, “the longer we wait, the longer they too will have time to prepare. We must strike when they least expect it.”

She inclines her head to her retainer. "How well do you think you and Shamir can guide us through Shambhala?"

Hubert replies, "our maps are incomplete, but we have a general idea of where notable locations are. The most plausible escape routes, main chambers, laboratories- "

"What about the dungeons?"

His lips press to a thin line. "I can extrapolate from what we’ve seen thus far..."

"It'll have to do."

"Woah, woah, woah," Bernadetta cuts in, "we're just going to go in there. Relying on  _ guesses _ ?!"

"Educated guesses," Byleth clarifies dryly. "Based on Hubert's academic record, that's pretty good."

“We’ll rely more on strength and cunning rather than numbers for our attack. Mobilize what forces we’ve already gathered at once.” She looks over at Hubert. “Go to Ordelia and update Lysithea on the situation. You’ll be leading the charge against Shambhala from there. Take who you’ll need. Once you’ve engaged them, I’ll lead the rest of the Strikeforce to take them on from behind. We rescue Dorothea, then we regroup and defeat them once and for all.”

“It will be done, Your Majesty.”

“If they’ll lead the main charge, theirs should be the bigger force,” Linhardt points out.

Byleth raises their chin. “I’ll go with them. Thales might be suspicious if you’re not there at the head, but between Hubert and I, we’ll hold his attention.”

Petra turns to her, “I will be going with you in the rescue group.”

“Good, I'll need your skills,” Edelgard says. That and she’s certain Petra’s as worried as she is. “You too, Linhardt. Dorothea may need a healer when we get her.” The thought churns her stomach, but she can’t deny the possibility.

“I’ll go with you guys!” Bernadetta adds. 

Edelgard nods her thanks. “We’ll bring Shamir and Jeritza with us.” Combined with a handful of battalions, they’ll have enough might between them to take down those in their way while remaining small enough to have some measure of stealth.

“We’ll stop over at Bergliez to collect Ferdinand and Caspar,” Hubert says.

“It’s decided then,” Edelgard closes her fist around the scale, its edges digging into her palm. “We’re coming,” she whispers, “just hold on a little longer.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The interior of Shambhala is nothing at all like the dungeons below the imperial palace. In fact, it’s nothing at all like anything Edelgard has ever seen before. The underground city was devoid of any natural light, illuminated only by strange lines than shot through the walls and floors in geometric patterns. The lines glow an eerie pale blue against night black walls, and despite the brightness, they hold little warmth when she presses her palm against one.

“Most intriguing indeed,” Linhardt mutters. “I know they’ve committed many atrocities in the past, but they’re biggest sin, methinks, is that they’ve kept all this technology to themselves. What a waste.”

“Rhea hadn’t been much for progress when she was in charge,” Edelgard replies, keeping her voice low. “Even under a false identity, they wouldn’t be able to patent anything should they be inclined to do so.”

“Creepy murder cult aside,” Bernadetta says, “this place isn’t so bad, actually. Under different circumstances, the atmosphere is kind of nice. I could live here.”

“Right?” Linhardt turns to her with a grin that Edelgard finds wholly inappropriate for the situation. Still, the conversation is better for her than her increasingly distressing thoughts, so she continues to indulge them.

The team from Ordelia had begun their assault earlier, effectively drawing the attention of enemy soldiers. Shamir and Petra scout ahead with select archers, silencing the few guards they come across with a swift arrow to the neck. Edelgard and the rest of the group trail behind, being considerably less stealthy with their heavy armor and mounts. They wait for Petra’s signal before they follow them around the corner.

“Show yours-”

The cry of an enemy guard cuts off with a gurgle as another arrow finds its mark. Edelgard shudders as the dull thump that follows echoes in the cavernous halls. She knew violence, she knew war, but taking it underground brought back memories she struggled to handle despite the years since. She could seal the dungeons below Enbarr, but all the bricks and mortar in the world couldn’t bury her past.

She hadn’t gotten much sleep since she’d received that letter. The wordless threat hidden beneath the wax provided abundant fuel for the flames of her nightmares. It haunted her in the night, and it continues to linger in her mind even as she marched to battle. Behind the sound of Linhardt and Bernadetta’s idle chatter, the clop of hooves from their horses, the click of Nike’s talons on the floor, Edelgard could hear the screams of tortured souls. Only it wasn’t her or her siblings’ voices that ring in her ears. It’s Dorothea’s.

She could imagine with nauseating clarity her lover in the place of each of her doomed kin. Dorothea cut open as hooded figures poked at her organs. Dorothea drained of blood, pale and lifeless on a table. Dorothea eaten by rats in her cell when she’d grown too weak to fight them off. Dorothea driven mad with torture and babbling nonsensically. Dorothea a broken husk of her former self, with hair as white as bone… 

Her anguish is interrupted by Shamir’s curt voice. “There’s a large chamber up ahead. About two dozen soldiers.”

“Finally,” Jeritza swings his scythe eagerly, “combat.”

Edelgard spurs Nike onward, the underground city surprisingly spacious enough to accommodate a wyvern in flight. Her troop follows behind in a wordless charge. She’s the first to burst into the cavern, startling the soldiers inside. Bernadetta fast on her heels atop her pegasus. Jeritza wades into the fray astride his dark steed while Shamir and Petra pick off enemies with deadly precision. Linhardt keeps to the fringes of battle, dealing damage or healing where it’s due.

Chaos abounds. Arrows fly, spells blaze, blood and gore splatter with every swing of heavy blade. Aymr is aglow with righteous fury in her hands as she cleaves a man in twain. 

“Edelgard,” Shamir calls, pointing to the far side of the chamber where several foes were retreating. “The dungeons are that way. You’d best get there before they do.”

“Understood. Petra, Linhardt, with me!” 

“You can rely on me!”

“Got it.”

Petra sprints ahead, weaving between combatants and slashing with her sword as she goes. Edelgard doubles back to hoist Linhardt into the saddle with her before flying in pursuit. Her Crests seethe in tandem with her bastard relic, a raging storm of flame and destruction that goads her forward. They overtake the Brigid Queen and they don’t stop even as Edelgard cuts down two of the retreating soldiers. 

The final one rushes through a door and slams it shut behind him. She wastes no time in hopping off her wyvern and hacking it apart with Aymr.

What she sees makes her stop in her tracks, the bonfire within dropping to a smolder. The cell is flooded with ankle deep water and in it is Dorothea. She looks worse for wear, but she’s alive, Goddess, she’s alive! Her hands and tail were shackled to the ground and her mouth was covered with something, her long brown hair was damp and matted, but her eyes were bright and alert, luminous in the dim light. Lilac meets emerald, and for a fraction of a second, Edelgard allows tension to ebb into relief.

Only for a fraction of a second. 

Harsh reality comes in the form of a hooded man yanking Dorothea up by the hair and pressing a dagger to her throat. “One more step and she gets it.”

Edelgard glares him down, her weapon twitching and snapping like a rabid animal. “Release her at once and I’ll deign to grant you a swift and merciful end. Salvation is far beyond the heinous likes of you and yours.”

Behind her, Linhardt slips down from the saddle but remains at the doorway, watching the scene with wary eyes.

“You’re as arrogant as ever, Flame Emperor,” the hooded man scoffs, “your hubris will be the death of you. Or more likely, it will be the death of your lovely little friend here.” The dagger digs deeper into her neck, drawing blood.

Edelgard hears a faint sound behind her. “You aren’t going to live to regret that.”

A pillar of light flashes behind the man. Before he could so much as react, Petra materializes and twists the dagger out of his grip and sinks it into his own neck. Dorothea makes a startled noise as she’s dropped to the floor, the sound muffled by the strange material covering her mouth. Petra tosses the body disdainfully to the corner.

Aymr splashes into the shallow water as Edelgard rushes towards them. “Dorothea,” she kneels, heedless of the water seeping into her armor. “Are you alright, what did they do to you?” Upon closer inspection, there’s a poorly healed gash on her arm that trickled blood. “Linhardt!”

“I’m here,” he steps gingerly into the cell and starts to heal her injuries.

Petra takes a couple of lock picks from her pocket and works on the shackles. “Honestly, Dorothea. One thing. We were asking one thing from you.”

A muffled reply.

Edelgard picks at whatever is covering her mouth. It’s a glossy, durable sheet, stuck to her face with some kind of adhesive. She tries to peel it off and Dorothea winces in pain.

“Apologies,” she murmurs and tries to remove it more gently. It doesn’t seem to help.

“Maybe you should make it quick and rip it off?” Linhardt suggests.

Edelgard frowns. “What if the skin goes with it?” 

Dorothea blanches.

“I’m healing her anyway,” he points out.

The siren lets out a muted growl.

Petra glances between the three of them. “He is the medic.”

“Yes, I am.”

Dorothea’s shoulders slump in resignation. Edelgard gives her a placating kiss on the forehead, then with a flick of her wrist, rips it off.

_ “Fuck!” _

White magic glows briefly in its place. “See,” Linhardt says, “it’s just as painful, but over with quicker.”

The shackles come off with a clink and Dorothea shoves him with her newly freed arms. Edelgard catches sight of her wrists, rubbed raw and blistered from the chains, and her own scars twinge in sympathy. 

Whatever scathing remark she had for the tactless healer dies in her throat when Edelgard gently takes her hands in her own and presses her lips against healing skin. “I’m sorry,” her voice cracked with remorse, “I am so sorry.”

“Oh, Edie,” Dorothea pulls her close. “I brought this upon myself, you needn’t shoulder the blame. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

“There is no need for apologies,” Petra tells her gently. “Nobody was wanting for this to happen, the importance is that you are safe now.”

Dorothea’s shine as she favors them with adoration. She tugs Petra into her embrace to kiss her cheek and gives Edelgard one on the mouth. “If you won’t take my apologies, then have my gratitude. I love you so much.”

Linhardt clears his throat.

“You want a kiss too, Lin?” She holds her hand out to him, “your bedside manner might be atrocious, but you did still help.”

“I’ll pass.”

Footsteps echo from the hall outside and they tense in anticipation. There’s nothing to worry about, however. Nike stands sentinel by the door and only barks in greeting at the arrival. 

Byleth pokes their head into the cell. “Everyone alright?”

“My teacher!” Edelgard feels a weight lift from her chest. It seems everything was turning out well for them. “Yes, we’re all fine. How did things fare on your end?”

“Minimal losses on our part. We’ve secured most of the stronghold and we have Thales cornered. I’ve told Bernadetta to go join the others. They’re fine too.”

“Then it’s time we finish this, once and for all.” 

Edelgard rises, Dorothea in her arms. She tilts her head at her lover. “Would you like to get out of here? I can have a squadron escort you out while we deal with the rest of the fighting. The ocean’s not too far from here.”

She shakes her head. “I’m here now and I want to help. Besides,” she smirks, fangs flashing, “I want payback.”

“Very well, but you’re not leaving my side.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They gather in a large chamber strewn with fallen combatants and broken machinery. The rest of her Strikeforce is there to greet her, and to her surprise, Marianne and Leonie are among them. 

Lysithea sees them coming and bounds over. “Dorothea! Are you alright, did they do something to you?”

“Nothing Lin couldn’t fix. I’m fine, thanks.”

“Good.” Then she stomps her foot, voice raising, “of all the reckless, idiotic things! What were you thinking, getting caught like that? Never mind I asked, you weren’t thinking at all!”

“Uh,” Dorothea blinks at the sudden lecture, “my bad?”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

Leonie laughs as she saunters over. “Don’t worry about it. That’s just Lysithea’s way of saying she cares.”

“I do care  _ and _ Dorothea did something colossally daft,” she huffs. “They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Ignoring her, Leonie grins at Dorothea. “Nice to meet you, I’m Leonie, by the way.” Then she flicks her gaze over to Edelgard. “And congratulations.”

“Congratu- ” The Emperor stammers, “no, we’re not- ”

Dorothea only laughs, “thanks, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“The sudden change of plans had me short on troops so I got some friends to help,” Lysithea explains.

Edelgard had refrained from enlisting their friends from the other countries to tackle Those Who Slither as discreetly as possible. It hardly mattered on such short notice as the success of their attack proves their enemies had been none the wiser. Even she didn’t expect them.

“I’m grateful for the assistance. I thank you,” then she looks behind them to where Marianne was standing. “You, too.”

She smiles meekly. “It’s only right. It’s the least I can do for this future we fought for.”

“Indeed.”  _ For the future _ , she muses.

Hubert steps in. “Thales is in the sealed chamber up ahead. Your orders, Your Majesty?”

Edelgard glances at the grand door before them, then around at her gathered soldiers. She’s met with eyes burning with determination. From behind her on the saddle, Dorothea gives her a reassuring squeeze around the waist.

She lifts her axe and Aymr blazes to life, its wicked red glow a rallying beacon. Thales had given her this weapon, turned  _ her _ into a weapon, and with these powers as well as the support of her friends, she would crush him at last.

“For the future of Fódlan!” She yells, her battlecry echoed by the people and the cavernous halls. Softly, she adds, placing her hand over Dorothea’s. “And for our own future as well.”

Those Who Slither in the Dark would not take another loved one. Not from her, nor from anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it for all the drama in this story!! I'll be back with enough fluff to fill an army of bear stuffies in the next- or shall I say the last chapter ;3


	10. Chapter 10

Delicate stems bend under Edelgard's gentle touch. She leans forward from her perch on a crate, fingers weaving a crown of flowers at a languid pace. She has a lot of flowers to work with, should she be inclined to do so. This bouquet of carnations, the colors ranging from white to pink to red, is only one of the startlingly many flowers Byleth had decided to give her as a housewarming gift. She wouldn't be surprised if the greenhouse at the palace is currently barren. 

She isn't the only one at work on a creative project. Sitting atop a barrel next to her is Bernadetta, enthusiastically sewing an embroidery patch, though she refused to let Edelgard have a look at it. She respected that, for the most part, having only tried to peek at her work twice before settling her attention back to her garland at the archer's indignant cries.

She finishes up her garland, giving the petals a loving caress before getting up to search for her intended victim. 

They were on a ship headed for the central island of Brigid. It was nearing noon, and most of her companions had headed below decks for respite from the beating sun, though a few, such as herself and Bernadetta merely retreated to the shade. She can hear Caspar's hearty shouts from all the way up in the crow's nest. Linhardt was with him, though he had fallen asleep with his upper torso dangling off the side. She trusts that he won't fall. Probably.

Finally, she finds the person she was looking for. Hubert stands by the railings overlooking the ocean, sheltered by the shade of the billowing sails.

After several days at sea, they would finally arrive in a few hours. Excited to be free of the ship and eager to celebrate, a lot of them were already dressed festively. Though Byleth wore a garish button down with such bright colors and stylized fish patterns it was almost offensive to look at, Edelgard couldn't even be annoyed. She herself wore a loose blouse embroidered with fanciful bears in polished armor. She maintains it's markedly more tasteful than what her teacher was wearing, however. 

In a similar fashion, Hubert was also adorned to fit the mood. Though a flower patch or two was a common enough sight on his lapels these days, the Strikeforce had taken it a step further today in giving him a complete makeover. Ferdinand had somehow wheedled him out of his usual dark coats and into lighter, more breathable clothing and the rest of their friends had wasted no time in tacking on all manners of pins and ribbons on the normally dreary mage. For his part, Hubert bore every additional accessory with grace, if also an ever deepening scowl.

Edelgard would add her own contribution.

He turns at the sound of her footsteps, gaze dropping to the wreath in her hands. He suppresses a sigh of resignation. "Lady Edelgard."

"I think you look lovely," she smiles sweetly at him, rising to the tips of her toes to set the garland on his hair. He bends slightly to accommodate her.

“I expected a great many changes for when you’d relinquished the throne, but I must say,” he straightens, running his fingers lightly over the petals, “the demotion from Minister of the Imperial Household to Court Jester was not something I had the foresight to anticipate.”

“You’re not quite a comedian though,” she tells him. “More like a mannequin we dressed up. Or a show pony.”

His lips quirk upwards. “Even worse.”

She laughs, and Hubert actually joins her. “My, my,” she grins, “could it be that you are enjoying yourself? Has my dearest retainer found his new calling?”

“Show pony I may be, I’ve still got bite.” The smile on his face twists to a more familiar smirk. “Rest assured, Lady Edelgard, if any of the new governors prove to be not worth their salt, they’ll be kicked out with relish.”

“You’d kick out the new Emperor?” she asks with amusement.

“It was never the crown I’ve sworn loyalty to.” He favors her with a sentimental look. “The palace wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Her heart clenches at that. For as long as she could remember- due, admittedly, in part to her eroded childhood memories- it had just been the two of them against the world. Her only confidant and partner in crime against the gods above and the demons below. They chose their path expecting only to have each other, but the world proved less cruel than she’d thought, and they found themselves surrounded by allies, friends. Family. 

Oh, there were times when Edelgard wondered how he’d turn out had he chosen a different path, one that hadn’t been irreversibly entwined with hers from the beginning. And when their circles expanded to welcome in more people, she’d wondered if they could ever truly be apart from each other, considering their tendencies to trail after the other in implacable codependence. Now their shared duty is fulfilled and their chosen paths will bring an ocean between them.

She doesn’t have any regrets, but she’ll miss him terribly.

“I’m not your liege anymore, enough with this ‘Lady’ nonsense. Henceforth, I’m simply Edelgard.” She gives his arm a fond squeeze. “Though to you, I think I’d like to be El again.”

“El,” Hubert repeats, tasting the familiarity in it, “I haven’t called you that since we were children. Not since Fhirdiad.”

“It’s high time you reclaimed it.” She smiles wryly, “unfortunately, the professor beat you to the honor.”

“And who’s fault is that?” he tuts in good humor.

She waves it off nonchalantly. “We already know how impulsive I can be when it comes to matters of the heart. I can hardly be blamed for that.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle, then turns his gaze to the horizon. “Matters of the heart, you say?”

She follows his gaze and beholds the verdant islands of Brigid rising above the glittering sea. Her heart flutters as she leans over the rails, “matters of the heart indeed.” After months of preparation, Edelgard could finally settle down. Her abdication went smoothly and she even stayed in Enbarr to oversee how her successor was handling the transition. Meanwhile, Petra had arranged for her new house to be built along the coast. All that was left to do was move in, as well as hold a little celebration with her friends.

The ship sails on, drawing ever closer to the archipelago. She can’t stop the wide grin that stretches across her face. Every moment, every mile that passed brings her closer to her new life of peaceful days, and more importantly, it brings her closer to the one whom she’ll be spending that life with. Edelgard was giddy with excitement. She could almost hear her voice, calling to her in the wind…

“Edie!”

She blinks, startled. Did she actually hear that? Beside her, Hubert looks just as confused.

“Edie, over here! Oh, and Hubie too.”

They peer over the railing and see Dorothea following along beside the boat, floating on her back so she can look up at them without straining her neck too much.

“Since when does she call me that?” he grumbles.

“This is the first you’ve heard it? She calls you that all the time.” Then she turns to her lover, “Dorothea!”

“You guys were taking so long that I decided to come and check on you,” she calls up, raising her voice over the drone of the waves. “How’s the trip?”

“Better now that you’re here!”

Hubert shakes his head with a dry chuckle, “I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

“How much farther do you think?” Dorothea asks.

“A while.” It was rather inconvenient to keep yelling at her from the side of the boat. An idea occurs to her. “Wait for me there!”

“Here?” she echoes, confused.

To the surprise of everyone watching her, Edelgard promptly vaults over the railing and off board.

“Lady Edelgard!”

“Edie!”

“Edelgard!”

The wind and waves rush up to meet her. She doesn’t have much time to consider the consequences of her actions, abrupt and quick as her fall is, but at least she had the sense to keep her legs rigid underneath her. She drops beneath the surface with minimal splashing.

She kicks her way up, treading water and coming face to face with Dorothea’s bemused simper. 

“I didn’t realize you missed me  _ that _ much,” the siren teases, wrapping an arm around her waist so they don’t drift apart.

“You’re the one who went looking for our ship, I’m just meeting you in the middle.” She presses her forehead against hers. 

“Edelgard!” They both look up to see Hubert and Bernadetta staring down at them. Faintly, she could also hear Caspar’s hollering. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” she assures them, “there’s no cause for concern.”

“Actually,” Dorothea smirks devilishly, “I’m pretty sure we can get to Brigid faster like this. Do you plan on getting back on board or shall we take the scenic route?”

“A tempting offer,” she says, matching her smile. She calls back up to her friends, “we’ll go on ahead. See you in Brigid!”

Hubert presses his hand against his face while Bernadetta flashes her a thumbs up.

Edelgard drapes her arms over her lover’s shoulders, “shall we?”

Her response comes in the form of a kiss. Dorothea holds her flush against her while her other hand goes to tangle in her hair. Without breaking the kiss, the siren pulls her under. The kiss deepens like the surrounding sea as they drift downwards. Bubbles escape from between their lips as they part.

“I’ve missed this,” Dorothea moves her lips over her jaw, “I’ve missed  _ you _ .”

Edelgard lets out a breathy chuckle, “when was the last time we did this? Three, four days ago?”

“Edie, pearl of my seven seas, moon to my tides, my sweetest melody,” she whispers with theatric reverence, “you forfeit your rights to tease the moment you jumped off the boat.”

“Fair enough.”

They continued to sink deeper, the light from the surface fading into the unyielding abyss of the ocean. But wrapped in the warm embrace and faced with the gleaming eyes of her lover, Edelgard feared no depths.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


By the time they arrived on shore, the ship was already docked and their friends were in the process of moving her things to her new house. Nike lounges on the sand like a housecat, basking in the sun.

Byleth raises an eyebrow at them, hands on their hips. “I thought you’d get here before us.”

“We got a little sidetracked,” Edelgard coughs, blaming it on the seawater in her system.

“Took a detour,” Dorothea adds, “there’s so many places to go, you know. We just had to come.”

Edelgard glares daggers into her. She pretends not to notice.

Byleth nods sagely, “of course you both came. You had a lot of fun, I’m sure.”

Edelgard wants to hide back underwater and never surface again. She won’t even let Dorothea kiss her. 

The siren, for her part, is cackling uncontrollably. “We sure did, Professor!”

“I hate the both of you,” Edelgard tells them, “I’m going away now.”

“No you won’t,” Byleth grabs her arm and drags her to the boat. “You’re going to help unpack or else you won't like how your house will be arranged."

As they say that, the sound of breaking glass comes from the ship. 

"I hope that wasn't a teapot," Byleth says.

Edelgard sighs, "let's see…"

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Her new house is a cozy bungalow nestled against the tree line, where the earth of the forest transitions to the sand of the beach. A saltwater pool had been dug out in a semicircle around it, in which Dorothea is currently lounging in. She has her arms folded over the edge, humming happily as she watches Edelgard and Bernadetta work on the garden.

"And then rosemary and thyme can go here on top," Bernadetta pats the top of the herb spiral, a mound of dirt arranged like a winding mountain path, contained with bricks. "Mint goes at the bottom."

Edelgard gets the corresponding seeds from their packets and begins planting them.

"You guys gardened a lot?" Dorothea asks, watching with keen interest.

"I do," Bernadetta says sheepishly, "I like the company of plants more than people, so I spent a lot of time in the greenhouse."

"Oh?" The siren tilts her head. "Not much for conversation, those plants, but they are very pretty."

"That's exactly why I like them!" she shakes her fists emphatically. 

"But you did learn to adjust to people," Edelgard nudges her with an elbow, "eventually."

"Yeah, I guess you guys aren't so bad." She brushes the dust off her gloves as she gets up. "Once you get over all the intimidating exteriors, loud voices, and generally overbearing theatrics that come with literally  _ all _ our classmates!"

Loud stomps ring from inside as Caspar charges through the doorway, a couple of sacks raised over his head. He yells as he crosses the stone bridge above the pool and stops just short of crashing into their herb spiral. "I have more dirt!"

"You see what I mean," Bernadetta pokes his chest.

"Were you guys talking about me?" He sets down the sacks and folds his arms behind his head, "I apologized for the pot already, jeez. I'll get you a new one."

"No need for that," Edelgard tells him. "We were just talking about our batch as a whole, how everyone had rather distinctive personalities."

"A rather mild way of saying 'everyone was crazy,'" Linhardt drawls as he ambles up to them. 

Dorothea giggles. “From what I see, I think you all make fine company.”

“I bet you’d fit right in, Dorothea,” Caspar says, “tail and all, I can totally picture you in the Officer’s Academy.”

“Aww, you think so?”

“How,” Linhardt raises a brow, “she can’t even walk.”

Edelgard scoffs good naturedly. “This coming from you, Linhardt? If I had a bullion for every time you were sprawled on the floor and had to be carried, I could buy the Church of Seiros.”

“Those were just choices. I have the option of legs.”

Caspar chortles, “between Ferdinand shouting his name every five seconds, Professor Manuela passing out in the dining hall at breakfast, and Claude accidentally causing a food poisoning outbreak, you’ll blend right into the very,  _ very, _ colorful background. Watch out for Flayn, though, she likes fish.”

“Oh, speaking of fitting in,” Bernadetta suddenly bounces up and down, “I have an idea! All of you stay here while I get the others.” With that, she scurries into the house.

“Any idea what she’s up to?” Caspar scratches his head, unwittingly getting dirt in his hair. Edelgard brushes it off with a light chiding. 

“Something that requires an audience apparently,” Linhardt taps his chin. “Highly unusual behavior for her.”

It doesn’t take very long for their friends to file into the garden, as clueless of the proceedings as they are. Bernadetta is the last to return. She darts behind Edelgard and peers at the crowd over her shoulder.

“Something you’d like to share with the class?” Byleth asks in the same tone they use for lectures.

“Aah! Don’t say it like that,” Bernadetta shrieks, wide-eyed, “I hate presentations!”

“Fear not, Bernadetta,” Ferdinand assures her, “just take deep breaths and take your time.”

“Alright, you can do this Bernie,” she mutters to herself. She steps over to Dorothea, who looks up at her curiously. She pulls something out of her pocket and shows it to the siren. “I made this for you, to officially welcome you to the Black Eagle Strikeforce!”

Dorothea beams with delight. “You made that? Oh, Bern, it’s beautiful!”

Bernadetta turns and hands it over to Edelgard. “If you would do the honors, Lady Edelgard.”

“Enough with the titles, I’m not Emperor anymore, and the Strikeforce is dissolved.” Even as she says this, the significance isn’t lost to her. Neither was it lost to her friends who decry her statement. The Strikeforce might no longer be a military unit, but they are still her family. She thumbs at the embroidered patch, likely the one Bernadetta had been working on at the ship earlier. It shows a red rose, nestled in the dip between two waves, sewn with deep reds and vibrant greens. It was perfect.

“Dorothea Arnault,” Edelgard kneels before her, holding up the patch with dignity and authority, “By the power vested in me as the head and founder, I hereby declare you an official member of the Black Eagle Strikeforce!” She pins it at her chest as their friends cheer. “It’s an honor to have you.”

“The honor is all mine,” Dorothea cups her hand over the patch, “I’ll treasure it forever!”

Caspar whoops, “alright! This calls for a celebration!”

“I thought this was already a celebration?” Hubert puts in.

“An even grander celebration,” Petra proclaims, “this is calling for a feast!”

Lysithea perks up. “There’s got to be cake! I’ll use all the ingredients we brought, it has to be the biggest cake!”

“For sharing, I hope,” Edelgard teases.

“Of course!” She protests hotly.

“Want me to help bake?” Byleth offers, to which Lysithea eagerly accepts.

“I will go hunting,” Petra says, “a Brigid feast demands the bounty of the islands. Caught and cooked according to tradition!”

“It’ll be awhile before our vegetables grow,” Bernadetta looks around the garden.

Petra cants her head at her, “Do you have remembrance of the plants I showed you when we were last here? Come with me and we can forage as well as hunt."

"Sounds fun!"

“Oh,” Caspar grabs Linhardt’s hand and swings it about, “we can go fishing!”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Ferdinand casts a nervous glance at Dorothea.

She flicks her fins haughtily. “Of course I eat fish, what do you think I eat?”

“I meant no offense- ”

“Do humans not eat cows out of land animal solidarity? Honestly, Ferdie.”

“Well, now- ”

"That's enough of that," Hubert pointedly cuts in. "It sounds like the others have the main course and desserts accounted for. Let's handle the refreshments, shall we. We'll have quite a lot of tea to brew."

Ferdinand brightens immediately. "Or coffee! Dorothea, what is your preference?"

She considers it for a moment before shrugging. "Nothing really. I'll leave it up to you, something tells me you have great taste."

"Surely you have some inclination?"

"Nope, I've never had before. Just get me whatever Edie likes."

"You  _ what?!" _ Ferdinand splutters, red in the face. "You've never had tea?"

Dorothea startles at the sudden reaction. "Uh…"

"This is completely unacceptable, we must rectify this at once!" His eyes blazed, Edelgard had never seen him so agitated since the war. "Come, Hubert, we must brew the finest batch of tea the Empire has ever known. Prepare yourself, Dorothea, for you will be faced with a diverse array of blends so that you may expand your palate!" He turns with a dramatic toss of his hair and cape, Hubert close behind.

With their friends dispersed to their tasks, Edelgard and Dorothea were left alone in the garden. The latter fiddles with her new patch. 

“So,” she remarks at a length, “we’re finally here.”

Edelgard slips off her shoes so she can sit at the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. “I can hardly believe it myself. I spent my whole life fighting towards a goal, and now that I’ve reached it, it feels strange. Almost empty somehow.” She rests a hand over Dorothea’s and smiles warmly at her, “though I know that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Dorothea laces their fingers together, thumb brushing over her knuckles and lingering at the ring on her finger. “Guess I’ll have to keep you occupied then. How do I compete against a gaggle of nobles or a terrorist cult?”

“There’s no competition at all. To even compare you is nothing short of an insult to your honor! Besides, I didn’t travel all the way here to bring all that nonsense with me.”

There’s a mischievous glint in Dorothea’s eyes as she lifts herself off the pool, water cascading down her arms as she places them on either side of Edelgard’s lap. “If business isn’t the reason for your travels, then could it be,” she pauses, face inches from her own, “pleasure?”

Edelgard rolls her eyes fondly. “As if you don’t already know.” She cups her cheeks and kisses her. Dorothea makes a contented hum, leaning her weight against her, water seeping into her clothes. 

“You’re getting me wet,” Edelgard says in empty complaint when they pull away.

“That’s the idea.” Dorothea smiles against her lips as she kisses her again. 

There’s no arguing with that, so she doesn’t, instead opening her mouth to the siren’s eager probing. She adjusts their position so Dorothea is seated snuggly on her lap, one hand pressed against the small of her back to keep her there and the other stroking her sensitive fin. Dorothea tugs the hem of her blouse free from her shorts and slips her hand underneath. Questing fingers brush against her ribs, trailing higher until-

“Why do you keep doing this?!”

They part reluctantly at Lysithea’s shriek. Edelgard sheepishly fixes her blouse.

“I’m not sure how you missed the fact, but we are kind of in love,” Dorothea crosses her arms, miffed at the interruption. “Why do  _ you _ keep doing this?”

Lysithea stomps her foot indignantly, cheeks aflame. “I was just going to ask if you wanted to help with the cake, in case you weren’t doing anything. It’s highly improper to- to canoodle while you have guests over!”

“Oh dear,” Dorothea presses her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to smother her laughter. 

Lysithea takes great offense at this and marches back inside with a huff. 

“Wait, Lys, come back!” Dorothea calls, still laughing.

“Cake sounds lovely, perhaps we should contribute,” Edelgard says, equal parts embarrassed and amused.

Dorothea nods, “can’t let our other guests catch us canoodling.”

Edelgard lifts her out of the pool and carries her inside. The house had been built to accommodate two people, and as such, would be rather cramped when the entire Strikeforce is present. Dinner was looking to be a close-knit affair in every sense of the word. As it is, Lysithea, Byleth, Ferdinand, and Hubert were already crowding in the kitchen.

Edelgard sets Dorothea down on a chair by the counter. “Does the cake offer still stand?”

Lysithea shoots them a mistrustful look. “As long as you keep your hands to yourselves!”

“No making out in front of the baby,” Dorothea says, “got it.”

“I am not a child!”

Byleth beckons her over, “feel free to join us, though do try to keep unnecessary movements to a minimum.”

Ferdinand, who’d done his hair up in a bun, waves them off, “actually, I think Hubert and I can take the tea to the living room. We will boil it later so it will be finished just in time for the others to arrive.”

Gathering their assortment of dried leaves and spices, the two men vacate the kitchen. Edelgard washes her hands before taking their place while Dorothea observes curiously from the counter.

“I’ll be honest,” Byleth says, handing her a bowl of cake batter, “I just want to make sure you two won’t burn the house down the moment we leave.”

“Have you so little faith in my capabilities?” Edelgard huffs affronted. “You’ve seen me cook before, it turns out well.”

“Because I and others are there to keep your impulses in check.” They give her a stern look, “no weapons in the kitchen, and that counts fire magic.”

“Yes, my teacher.”

They glance at Dorothea, “do you have much experience with cooking?”

“This is my first time in a kitchen.”

Byleth bows, folding their hands in front of their chest in prayer. “Sothis, protect them.”

“Relax, Professor,” Lysithea raps her knuckle against the stone walls, “I don’t think this place will catch fire easily. And should worse come to worst, the pool’s right there, so is the ocean.”

“Plus, I’m sure Petra wouldn’t mind taking us in should we blow the place,” Dorothea jokes. At Edelgard’s irritated glare, she amends. “Not that that’s likely to happen. How hard can cooking a meal be?”

Byleth grimaces, “you have no idea what kind of incidents proceed that statement.”

She casts a dubious glance at the stove.

Lysithea offers her a bowl, “do you want to mix batter as well?”

She accepts it, eyeing the bowls the others already have. “How much cake does this make?”

“A lot! Three tiers, minimum!” Lysithea says eagerly.

“You’ll want to go shopping after this,” Byleth tells Edelgard, “we used all the flour.”

“A small price to pay for cake,” Lysithea tells her.

When the first batch of batter was put in the brick oven, Lysithea shows off the different colored frosting she’d been mixing to Dorothea while Byleth retreats to the counter.

Edelgard joins her teacher. “Do you have any plans now that all this is over?”

“Might go back to being a professor at Garreg Mach,” they shrug, “I quite liked teaching, and who knows, maybe it’s more enjoyable without the monthly revolt or terrorist attack.”

She smiles, despite the setbacks, she thinks quite fondly of their academy days. “I’m sure your future students will love you. And if your former students have anything to say about it, we’ll see to it that Fódlan will remain peaceful for them.”

The corner of their lips quirk up. “Come to think of it, you’ve all made your place in the annals of history. I’ll be teaching about you in the future. I could tell them Her Majesty, the Flame Emperor, sleeps with a teddy bear.” 

“Don’t you dare!”

Byleth tilts their head coyly at her. “Why ever not? It’s rather humanizing, not to mention adorable.”

She buries her face in her hands to cover her burning cheeks. “Professor, why must you torment me so? Have I wronged you somehow?”

“Not just you, of course. I’ll be sure to include that Savior King Dimitri tried to eat garden weeds, and Master Tactician Claude had the messiest room, and former archbishop Lady Rhea is obsessed with cats!”

“I’ll be the last to tell you not to be critical about historical figures or people in authority,” Edelgard shakes her head, “but this is just petty.”

“Like I said, it’s humanizing. Bards and historians alike will laud your deeds, but only those who stood by your side will truly know the person beneath the crown. And if you think I’ll be able to shut up about my treasured students, you’re sorely mistaken.” They wipe the heel of their palm across their eye.

Edelgard stares at them. “My teacher… are you crying?”

“Well, that’s rare.” They face away from her, “give me a moment.”

She places a hand on their shoulder. “There’s no shame in tears.” Six years ago, the words would’ve been foreign on her tongue. That’s certainly not what she’d told them when she first saw them cry, but Edelgard had grown much since then and she knew better than to neglect the softest of feelings. “It’s rather humanizing, don’t you think? I daresay, it’s even adorable.”

“You’ve learned too much from me,” Byleth wraps her in a hug, “I’ll miss you, El.”

“I’ll miss you too, my teacher,” she returns the embrace. “I’ll write often. Promise to keep in touch?”

“Gladly. I’ll read them in front of my students.”

“You’re despicable.”

“You two aren’t flirting over there, I hope,” Dorothea teases.

“Nothing to worry about, love.” She turns to her and Lysithea and is only mildly surprised to see them streaked with frosting. “What happened to you two?”

Lysithea points an accusatory finger, stained pink with sugar, at the siren. “She started it!”

She merely waves her off. “Who’s being juvenile now?”

“At least spare the frosting,” Byleth retrieves the cakes and sets them on the counter to cool. “No one wants sad, frostingless cake.”

“I’ll decorate!” Lysithea exclaims.

Dorothea sits up, “can I help?”

“As long as you behave,” she says pointedly.

“Or what, you’ll spank me?”

Lysithea lets out a frustrated whine, face flushing. She casts pleading looks at Edelgard and Byleth, “make her stop!”

“I’m sorry,” Dorothea laughs, “you just make it so easy!”

“She likes to tease, but she means no harm,” Edelgard tells Lysithea. “Just be the bigger person and ignore her.”

She nods reluctantly, passing Dorothea a cake and a bowl of purple frosting. “You get  _ one _ color.”

Edelgard pats her on the head. “Good girl.”

Lysithea hums at the praise before catching herself and giving her a scathing glare. “You’re both horrible.”

Edelgard only chuckles at her, casting her gaze out the window and to the darkening sky. The others should be returning soon. “I’ll get the lights.”

Byleth raises an eyebrow at her use of fire magic to light the lamps. She knows they mean well, but the concern is unwarranted, almost offensive. As if Edelgard had ever unwittingly burned any place, honestly!

“It’s a shame we’re still figuring out Agarthan technology,” Lysithea muses as she spreads frosting on the cake. “Electrical lighting, can you believe it! We just need to figure out how to safely harness all that energy…”

Dorothea scoffs. “The keyword is ‘safely.’”

Shambhala, previously thought to be powered by magic, turned out to be run by mere electricity as well. A fact discovered by Linhardt after a foray into the underground city's bowels, an accident, and the skillful application of chest compressions. 

The power system wasn't the only technological marvel to be found, as centuries worth of research and inventions that Those Who Slither had been keeping were finally brought to light. As keen as Lysithea was on analyzing and applying these findings, she and Edelgard had their interests piqued by one subject in particular.

"Electric lights are well and good," Edelgard says, "but I'm more keen on what we can uncover from their Crest research."

"That statement sounds so weird from your mouth, El." Byleth comments wryly.

Lysithea makes a face, "as atrocious as they were, there's no denying that Those Who Slither had legitimate scientists. Their experiments are well documented and highly detailed. We can use their work to advance our own understanding of Crests by leaps and bounds. Professor Hanneman has already started going through them!"

“You’ll be working with him, right?” they ask.

“As soon as we return,” she nods, eyes blazing with determination. “The sooner we finish the better. We have a deadline, after all.”

“And then it’s back to the surgical table…” Edelgard mutters under her breath. A complicated knot of emotion in her chest makes her pulse race at the thought. The trauma she experienced at the hands of those so-called scientists instilled in her a level of fear and derision for Crests and all who tamper with them, but they can only undo the damage done to them if they had the expertise to match, if not surpass. She’s ecstatic about a cure, don’t get her wrong, but likewise she’s terrified.

Dorothea reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Hey,” she says softly, “you’ll get through this. Things are better now.”

“Indeed they are.” She presses her forehead against hers, drinking in her calming scent. She smells like sea breeze and sugar. Edelgard wipes a bit of frosting off her cheek with her thumb, then licking her finger clean.

Dorothea giggles, “you missed a spot.” She tilts her chin up and captures her lips with her own.

Lysithea makes a disgusted noise.

“Ugh,” Dorothea grumbles, “I can’t wait for you guys to leave.”

“I can’t wait to leave,” she shoots back.

“Not until after food,” Byleth says.

“Right as always, Professor,” Lysithea agrees. She gets the last batch of cakes from the oven, then pauses, looking it over. “I bet we can make this electric.”

“An electric stove?” Dorothea raises an incredulous brow, “what’s next, an electric ice chest.”

She scowls at her. “Electricity generates light and heat, that’s why it’s not a stretch to be able to use it for cooking.” Then her expression grows thoughtful as she considers the possibilities, “although…”

“You’ve gone drunk with power.”

“It’s called being innovative and open-minded,” she huffs, “and now that I have the means, it’s only a matter of time before Fódlan sees a surge of new technology.” She casts her gaze upon Edelgard, “and as for you?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a scientist,” she says.

“But still,” Lysithea presses, “we’re going to have our whole lives ahead of us- long lives!- you don’t have any grand plans for it?”

"Isn't overthrowing a millennium old system a grand enough plan for a lifetime? I'll rest on my laurels, thank you." Edelgard ponders it for a moment. She’ll quite literally have more time than she knows what to do with once her Crest is removed. “I’ll be learning Brigidese, it would do me well to be able to speak with the locals.” 

“I’ll be teaching her!” Dorothea declares proudly. She then says something in the language that no one else in the room could understand, but the suggestive smirk and waggling eyebrows is unmistakable.

“I’m not even going to ask,” Lysithea says flatly.

“That’s probably for the best,” Byleth tells her.

Hubert returns to the kitchen with a kettle in hand. “Lady E- ”

Edelgard puts her hands on her hips.

“El,” he amends, with difficulty, “are you done with the kitchen?”

“We have the baking part down,” she says, “you can use the stove while we decorate the cakes.”

“Excellent.” 

He’d just set down the kettle when they hear the front door slam open, followed by clamoring voices.

“I call first dibs on the kitchen!”

“Caspar, you are not even good at the cooking! Bernadetta and I will make use of the kitchen first and we will be faster.”

“But fish is best cooked fresh, right, Lin?”

“As is everything, I imagine.”

Hubert stands almost protectively in front of the stove. “It seems this is a rather contested location.”

“Maybe,” Byleth suggests, “we should take this outside. Light a bonfire, have a barbecue?”

Ferdinand’s voice joins the cacophony as they push deeper into the house.

“An excellent idea, my teacher,” Edelgard says, “let’s break the news before they break something else in there.”

A crash.

“Too late.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Sunlight pours over the trees, filtering through the leaves to shine down on a woven hammock suspended at a corner of a garden. Within the hammock, Edelgard blinks awake. She rolls over, turning away from the intrusive light, careful not to disturb her lover sleeping in her arms.

From the intensity of the light, it was late into the morning already. She can’t remember the last time she’d slept in so late, nor the last time she’d stayed up for mere fun. She tries to stretch, as much as she can in the limited space, pleasantly sore from yesterday’s activities.

Dorothea stirs, blinking up at her blearily, “Edie?”

“Go back to sleep,” she murmurs, kissing her temple.

“Hmm,” she drapes an arm over her, “you too.”

“Me too,” she agrees, snuggling closer. No more early meetings or busy days. Just the joys of idling, the love of her life, and whatever their whims for the day will bring them. The lack of structure is somewhat daunting with how different it is from the rigidity of her old life, but she’ll adapt to it in time. 

She can simply live on the be.

They’ll have to relocate the hammock later, its current position isn’t very conducive for sleeping in. But for now, she has the siren song of slumber to entertain.

A melody rumbles lightly from Edelgard’s throat, a tune Dorothea would sing frequently, on lazy days filled with gentle touches and quiet conversation. Her lover soon joins her in a languid duet that would eventually taper to soft snoring as they drift back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when I said I'd finish this all in May? How foolish I was, oh the arrogance of youth! That said, 37k words in 3 months is probably the most I've ever written for a single project so yay me
> 
> a big thank you to everyone who read/left comments/kudos, y'all're the best!!! you made indulging in this au a whole lot more rewarding uwu
> 
> on an unrelated note, Dorothea is in FEH as a summer alt and she's b e a u t i f u l !!! if you're reading this and trying to pull her, this is my prayer for her to come home to you. she's such a delight qwq


End file.
